


Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet?

by AFangirlFantasy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Harry, Blow Jobs, Businessman Louis, Chance Meetings, Eleanor isnt really in this, Escort Harry, Happy Ending, Kinda, Kissing, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death, Neighbors, Past Relationship(s), Physical Abuse, Prostitute Harry, Soulmates, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Whipping, it's not bad i promise, past relationship zouis, sort of, soulmate-spark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFangirlFantasy/pseuds/AFangirlFantasy
Summary: “It sounds to me like the people you’ve allowed to be a part of your life, don’t deserve even a fraction of a minute of it.” As they repeat over and over, Harry calls out to fate and destiny, asking them why that can’t be true? Why can’t Harry be deserving of love? Why can’t Harry be as special as Louis argues he is? Louis’ beliefs ring in Harry’s mind like the most hopeful of gospels, and Harry wants to proclaim them as his new religion. But when his hands reach out into the vast emptiness of his flat to grab them, to grab Louis, there’s only a shard of a memory to clutch onto.   
Or
 
  AU where Harry doesn’t know what it means to be in love, and Louis’ still in love with somebody else.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy everyone!!!! Okay, so I wrote another story this month. It's turning out to be a trend! This story has been a bitch to write...it definitely had a mind of it's own! With that being said, I hope you all still enjoy it!
> 
> **Credit to all those that created/edited the images I use
> 
> **If anyone has any concerns about the tags that they want to ask me about, please go ahead!! 
> 
> **Also, just wanted to add this just as a side note...There are two older male characters in this story: Mr. Cardone and Roger. I just want to make it clear that neither one of them is supposed to be a stand in for Simon Cowell. They are their own characters. I chose not to put Simon in this story, so he's not even in this! :) :) 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you like this, and I love you!! 
> 
> **(See the end of the work for[more notes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8023477/chapters/18440836#chapter_7_endnotes))**

                                                                 

 

**_3 Years Ago_ **

 

“El…I love him.”

Struggling to contain the rapids of emotion flowing through his body like a tidal wave coming down on his relationship, Louis takes a deep breath. Eleanor stands in front of him, looking as beautifully broken as ever, and this time…it’s quite certainly Louis’ fault. He did this. He ruined this. He ruined her. And as he waits anxiously for her response, he finds that he honestly has no idea what to do. He’s out of his element.

“It’s funny…because I knew something was up. You started being vague about your plans, you were suddenly eager to head to work, and you started looking at me like the way you’re looking at me now. Like I’m the enemy!”

Eleanor is pointing her long accusing index finger at him, with its newly manicured purple nail polish.

“You’re wrong! I’m not looking at you like that.”

“Who is it?”

The shock of the question causes Louis’ throat to close up. Instead of answering, Louis stares at her a little longer, hoping she’ll pass on to something else. However, she doesn’t. She huffs out a sigh and asks again, only more agitated this time.

“Who. Is. It?”

“Zayn.”

The answer that manifests itself out of Louis’ mouth, has Eleanor reacting with a quick head jerk and a scowl.

“I knew you were having an affair with him! Why did you wait this long to tell me? Why did you drag this out?”

“El…I did not have an affair. I have not cheated on you. We both know we like one another, but we’ve done absolutely nothing but talk!”

“How can you love him then?”

It’s meant as a snide remark by the tone it’s said with, but underneath, Louis can hear the devastating sound of Eleanor’s heartbreak.

“It just sort of happened over time, and with getting to know him. Look… this is so hard to say, but I know now that I don’t want to be with a woman, like at all. I’ve lied to myself enough throughout the years, El, I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m twenty-four, I still have time to meet someone and have a family, but not much. And it’s not fair to you to waste your time either. You should go out there, find somebody who can love you better than I ever could. Find somebody who’s going to worship the ground you walk on because that’s what you need. That’s what you deserve. You’ve been so great, but I just…I’m in love with someone else.”

The tears cascading down her face are the worst thing about this. It’s terrorizing Louis’ heart to watch her fall apart, but he can’t give in. He has to do this. It may be painful now, but in the end…in the end this is best for both of them.

“I don’t ever want to see you again, Louis Tomlinson. Get out.”

“El?”

“GET OUT!”

A rage as forceful as a thunderstorm explodes from her as she screams, and Louis knows he has to let her go, or things will only get out of hand.

“Okay…okay, I’m leaving. I’ll be back for my stuff tomorrow, but you don’t have to be here when I do. I’ll be by around one and then I’ll leave. For good.”

Reaching for the front doorknob, Louis twists it within his hand, and peels open the door. But just as he’s about to walk away from this life, away from Eleanor, he turns back around and gives the girl one last glance. Throughout their relationship, she’d always been so mature, always so confident in herself, but as Louis looks back at her it reminds him of his littlest sister. She appears young and innocent, and most of all…insecure. And if Louis’ heart wasn’t broken before, it absolutely is crumbled now.

* * * *

Leaving the building was single-handed, one of the hardest things Louis has ever done. By the time he finally escapes into the muggy summer night air, he looks up at the stars and prays to the unknown that things are somehow going the way they’re meant to. After he’s pulled his head back down to earth, he reminds himself that there’s still someone waiting on him tonight. With that thought as the only pleasant one lingering in Louis’ mind, he follows it with all the broken fragments of himself that he has, and heads onto the tube, and onto his new life.

* * * *

The historic brownstone building with green side and window trimmings, is so picturesque on this mostly modern street, and Louis loves it for that. He also loves it because it’s home to the one person he wants to be with at this particular moment. Racing up to the building’s door, he punches in the code that he’s memorized undoubtedly, and heads inside to the fourth floor. That is the one thing, however, Louis dislikes about this building… there’s no elevator.

Making his way up, Louis finally reaches the flat, albeit a little out of breath and in desperate need of some water. Although for the time being, he pushes it aside, knocking on the door to Zayn’s home.

The thing is, is that this should be immediate. The door should swing open before Louis even returns his arms back to his side from knocking. The door should swing open before Louis even has a chance to blink. The door should swing open, with a cosmic smile and dark eyes, tugging him inside with a warm embrace to say hello. The door should swing open. And yet…it doesn’t.

Louis tries to recount if Zayn mentioned anything about plans, but Zayn rarely does much else after work that involves being outside of his flat. If he had to go anywhere, Louis would know. So why is the door not opening? Louis tries to knock again. And then again, and again, and again, and again. By the thirtieth time he’s knocked on the door, and started chanting Zayn’s name along as if it could somehow conjure up the one person that isn’t there, another door on the floor opens.

“Louis? What’re you doing?”

Turning around, Louis finds one of Zayn’s neighbors across the hall, looking questioningly at him.

“Niall! Have you seen Zayn?”

The look on his face is peculiar. Niall is looking at Louis as if Louis is the only person on this entire earth that doesn’t know something. Niall is looking at Louis as if he’s not sure that he should be answering the question Louis’ asked. Niall is looking at Louis, like he’s a delicate paper airplane deserted on the ground, about to be smothered by an oncoming car.

“You don’t know?”

Those three words nearly drop Louis to his knees. What? He doesn’t know  _what_?

“What are you on about?”

“Louis...he…he overdosed, mate. He was taken to hospital about an hour ago.”

It takes a few seconds for the information to process in Louis’ mind, leaving him to stand in a state of paralysis in front of Niall. But once they have been understood, once they have been absorbed and accepted, Louis bolts out of the building as quick as a lightning strike. The minute he makes it to the curb, he hails a cab and throws money at the driver to take him as fast as he can. He needs to make it there. He needs to see Zayn. This can’t be happening. How is this happening?


	2. Chapter 2

**_Present Day (3 Years Later)_ **

**Harry POV - Friday**

Looking up at the building, his new home, Harry wells with excitement. The historic brownstone building was like a diamond in the rough when Harry had first laid eyes on it. He was flat shopping with his Mum when they happened to walk down this street, and it came upon him like the clearest sign he’s ever seen. It’s enchanting brickwork along with the green trimmings adorning the sides and windows, and just it’s overall vibe, took Harry’s breath away. There was no question, he knew he wanted to live there. And now, only two short months later, he’s carrying his belongings up to flat 4C.

“Harry, love. I have that doctor’s appointment I need to get to, so I’m gonna be heading off. If you need anything, just call!”

Harry leans in and kisses his Mum on her cheek, before she strolls down the street and into her car. They’d been unloading stuff all morning, but the box in Harry’s hands now, is finally the last one. Making his way up the four flights, Harry gets to his slightly ajar door and kicks it open further to get inside. It’s a decent size, with the living room directly by the door, the kitchen off to the left, and the bedroom off to the right past the living room. And the best part about it, is that it’s all his.

After releasing the box to the kitchen counter, Harry opens a cupboard to start storing his things away, when a small piece of paper flutters from within and drifts onto the floor. Curiously, he bends down to pick it up carefully within his right hand, finding an image drawn onto the faded half-sheet. It’s done in pencil, and the drawing is a guy so mesmerizing, so stunning, that Harry is immediately captivated.

Analyzing the pencil’s design, the guy is created with seemingly soft fringed hair that brushes against his haunting eyes, strong cheekbones that angle his face just right, and perfectly crafted lips. The drawing only details this beautiful stranger’s face, who happens to be peering off into the distance, looking towards something with unease. For all of Harry’s admiration on black and white art, even referring to himself as a connoisseur in regards to such matters, he finds himself wishing desperately for this image to be in color. To see those tragic eyes, in color. There’s something about how life-like it is, as if the boy is really in front of him, that has Harry hungrily wanting for more.

Holding the paper at a certain angle, Harry finds a line peering through from the other side of the sheet, and thus, turns it over quickly to check out. On the back, the words “Falling For You” are written in a slanted script, in the middle of the page. At the bottom, a name in cursive is written that Harry can’t decipher, and then underneath the name, ‘2013’ is dated. Harry is sure that whoever it is that drew this, will most likely want it back.

Deciding suddenly that that’s the right thing to do, Harry holds onto the drawing, and then heads out into the hallway of the fourth floor for resources. He hasn’t met any of his neighbors yet, but they probably will know more about who this belongs to, so Harry guesses it’s best to start with asking them first. Heading straight for the door directly across from him, he knocks a handful of times, and then waits patiently as feet audibly shuffle on the other side.

“Hello?”

A similarly aged blonde guy with blue eyes, black glasses, and a welcoming smile opens up the door to Harry. And for the few seconds that pass from the amicable expression to Harry’s introduction, Harry’s nerves settle tenfold.

“Hi, ‘m Harry. Harry Styles. Just moved in across the hall. Erm… I found this in my flat and was wondering if you knew who it belonged to? Figure they’ll probably want it back.”

Handing it over, Harry watches as Niall gawks at the image, surprise edging in his look as he scans over the seemingly familiar contents. It takes the lad a bit until he drags his eyes away, holding his bewildered gaze at Harry, as he calls out another name.

“Liam! You might want to see this.”

At the call of the other name, another guy walks from somewhere inside, towards the two at the door. He’s taller than the blonde one, but not by much, with light brown hair sculpted into a slight quiff. He’s also a lot more muscular, despite his deceivingly innocent facial features, Harry notes.

“What’s going on?”

The blonde guy hands the image over to Liam, whose face pulls the same shocked expression as the lad before. Harry isn’t sure how to handle their reactions, shifting uncomfortably between his feet, while he waits for something to be said towards him. After Liam glances his toffee eyes away from the piece of paper, he turns his focus to the blonde boy, and then back at Harry.

“Did you find this?”

“Yeah. ‘m Harry. Just moved in across the hall. It was in one of my kitchen cupboards.”

“Ah, I see. Well, nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Liam, and this here is Niall.”

Niall waves ‘hello’ to Harry as Liam says his name, and Harry just nods at him, impatient in wanting to get back to the point of why he’s here.

“So, do you know who it belongs to?”

This time they both look at each other, before Liam sighs deeply, and then answers Harry’s question.

“Yeah, we do. Uhm…here.”

Liam pulls out his wallet from the back pocket of his gray pants, procuring a crisp white business card, and handing it to Harry. As Harry firmly holds it within his hands, Liam starts again.

“He’ll have all the answers you want.”

Looking down at the business card, Harry glides his thumb across the imprint of the black inked letters, and reads the name with confusion and intrigue. 

_Louis Tomlinson._

* * * *

After returning back to his flat with the drawing, and now the business card, Harry is downright baffled. Should he call, should he email, or should he text this mysterious person? And who is  _Louis Tomlinson_  in relation to this image? As Harry reads below the name on the business card,  **Louis Tomlinson, Vice President of Talent Management** , he thinks to himself,  _well he’s certainly no artist._

Ten minutes pass with questions and scenarios skating across Harry’s mind as if it were made of ice, and Harry only has himself to blame once his nerves have worsened dreadfully.  _There’s nothing to fear_ , he reminds himself, as he opts for twenty deep inhales and exhales to quiet his system. Once the calmness has warmed Harry’s mind enough to turn the ice into water, and slow his skating, racing thoughts to lazily floating, Harry pulls out his phone and dials the number. Of course each ring that echoes through the speaker, threatens for another round of anxiety to rise within him, but eventually it comes to an end. After what seems to be too long, and Harry is sure he’ll reach the voicemail, a voice comes through the line.

“Tomlinson speaking.”

The sound that delivers the pleasant greeting, slithers like a snake through the phone, with its high raspy cadence that dances down Harry’s spine, livening his pulse as it infringes closer to his heart.

“Erm, hi. Hello. M’ names Harry Styles, I was given your number by a guy named Liam-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Tell Liam that I know he’s worried about me, but I don’t need to be set up on a blind date. Thanks for the call, but I need to get back to work now.”

Harry is almost stunned to the point of being mute, by Louis’ sudden, brazen remark.

“Wait! Wait! I didn’t call because of, erm…that. I was calling because I found this picture, and like, Liam said you’ll have all the answers to it that I’m looking for.”

“Picture?”

“Yes. I’m not going to be able to describe it well over the phone, and you seem to be busy since you said you need to get back to work. Is there any chance you can meet up, erm, maybe later?”

Harry hears the hesitation through the phone line, but at least it seems that Louis Tomlinson is buying Harry’s story.

“I’ll be out of work by 5. Where do you live?”

“I live in the same building as Liam and Niall.”

Louis stalls, there’s no response for at least twenty seconds, and then he’s speaking again.

“I’ll meet you around the corner at the park by the school. Do you know where I’m talking about?”

“Yes.”

“See you then.”

The call ends abruptly, leaving Harry perplexed as he tries to recap on what has just happened. Out of the short, yet even more confusing phone call Harry just had, there is at least one positive outcome, there’s now a light at the end of this very short-lived tunnel.

* * * *

The rest of the day is spent continuing to unpack till it’s time for Harry to nervously make his way to the park. As he steps, there’s a strong force building within his stomach of jitters, that are causing his entire body to fidget uncontrollably. When Harry arrives to the rather small expanse of greenery enhanced with a playground, he takes a seat on a random bench, hoping to help cure the restlessness of his limbs, but it comes to no avail. Still he sits, waiting for someone he’s not sure he’ll even recognize, to come through.

At that exact moment that Harry starts to wonder how he’ll identify who Louis Tomlinson is, is the exact moment a devilishly attractive man comes thundering through the park like a hurricane. His caramel brown hair fringes across his forehead, and his golden skin glows under the sun’s light as if the sun had set all her rays to shine on him and him alone, and then there are his eyes. He’s not too far away for Harry to see that they’re cold and blue, forming together like the waves of the Arctic Ocean. He’s so handsome, and yet oddly familiar, but it only takes a second longer for the clarity to dawn on Harry… he’s the one in the drawing.

Abruptly, Harry stands up and motions his body towards the other lad, who seems to have stopped walking to pull out his phone. It doesn’t take much for Harry’s long legs to bring him to a spot only inches from the other, and then unsure of what else to do, coughs to announce his presence.

When the boy’s cobalt eyes meet Harry’s forest green, the two colors combine into something beyond Harry’s capacity of understanding. Inside himself, a calmness sweeps throughout, filling his being with blissful serenity. The feeling that arises is as if he were staring at a maple leaf gently swaying in the breeze, fluttering carelessly as it’s surrounded like a hug by turquoise skies. It’s what’s meant to be. A force between them bounds together like the leaves and the skies, and the grass and the seas, mending into a uniform whole. Harry gasps by the intensity of it all, and then takes a step back.

“Did you feel that?!”

The question breaks through Harry’s lips despite the barrier they tried to form up. He didn’t want to suggest that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t want to acknowledge that something happened, that wasn’t right. Or perhaps, maybe it was?

“Feel what?”

The man looks at him with a curious expression, but not quite annoyed. Harry looks around to see if anything else is strange, but life is moving on like it always does. There are children laughing in the park with their friends, dogs running obediently with their owners, and everyone else in the world seems completely at ease. Except for Harry.

“Sorry, must have been the wind.”

Harry tries to shake off the awkwardness, but the other boy clearly seems to not believe him. Even though there is a gentle gust that brushes against the lad’s hair as if the wind were dragging its own fingers in his locks. Trying to bring himself back to why he’s marched up to this person, Harry breathes, and then returns his focus to the point.

“Anyways. This may be very strange, but I’m Harry Styles, and I-”

“Yes, we spoke on the phone earlier. Louis Tomlinson. You said you wanted to show me a picture?”

Wait…the person in the image is Louis Tomlinson? Harry didn’t think that  _Vice President_  Louis Tomlinson, the same one he talked to on the phone earlier, would look anything like this twenty-something-year-old standing in front of him now. Harry had approached him because he was the boy in the picture, not even thinking that the same person could be Louis.

“Erm, yes. I just moved into my flat today, and this fell out of my kitchen cupboard. I asked the lads across the hall if they knew who had drawn this, figuring they’d probably want it back, when they gave me your business card and said to talk to you. So here I am.”

As Harry hands over the image that he had kept carefully in his bag, hanging off his shoulder, he doesn’t know what to expect. After the reaction he had received from the two before, he has no idea how to prepare for the way Louis will be. However, the most unexpected, as in not even remotely in the field of possibilities Harry encountered in his head, thing happens. Louis cries. He sits down on a bench with the image in his left hand, brings his right hand to his mouth to cover his almost inaudible gasp, and cries. And Harry is utterly, and totally flabbergasted.

It’s not for another twenty minutes that Louis breaks the silence that had infiltrated its way between them. Harry had eventually decided to sit down on the bench along with Louis, but thought it best to give him the time he clearly needed to deal with his thoughts. Harry knew not to say anything, so he just sat beside the clearly distraught older boy, knowing early on that he was not going to leave him alone until Harry was sure that Louis was okay. Well, okay enough.

“I know you have questions, I do myself, but I’m not going to be able to say anything without at least five drinks in me. And yes, I’m well aware that drinking does not solve my problems, so you don’t need to lecture me about how to handle my issues. I’m going to drink tonight one way or another, it’s just a matter of whether you want to join me or not.”

Ironically, for all the thinking Harry ever does before any decision he’s ever made, he does not need to think this one over.

“I’d be happy to join you, Louis.”

* * * *

“What’ll it be tonight, lads?”

“Rum and coke for me, please. Uhm…Harry, yeah? What would you like?”

Harry tilts his body forward to give his answer to the bartender, even though Louis is the one that asked. For all Harry’s preconceived notions of Louis Tomlinson, thus far, nothing has been close to what he assumed. Louis is certainly well off, however, he’s taken the two of them to a local bar with a need of a few fix-ups. They even took the tube to get there, and not a cab as most with money prefer to do. Harry notes to himself hastily that this is going to be an interesting night.

“Amaretto Sour for me, thanks.”

Once the bartender has provided them with their orders, Louis leads the two to a high top table, where they sit quietly, sipping their drinks till it’s too silent in the space around them. Realizing he doesn’t want to wait any longer, Harry clears his throat, and then figures better now or never.

“I hope you don’t mind me getting to the point, but erm, can you tell me about the picture? The person that drew it is massively talented.”

Louis' glare locks on Harry and a faint smile creeps on his face for mere seconds. Disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared, as if it was never even there to begin with.

“I think I said I needed to be five drinks down, but it’s alright. You probably don’t want to waste your night with an old grump like me, anyways.”

“Old grump? You’re hardly older than me.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Observing him carefully, Harry tries searching for obvious features of age. Wrinkles, age spots, gray hairs, etc. Nothing. Harry does not find one thing that suggests Louis being relatively older.

“I’d say twenty-four, maybe twenty-five.”

The answer causes Louis to chuckle, and then shake his head in amused disagreement.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m twenty-seven, I’ll be twenty-eight come this December. How about you?”

“Turned twenty-three this past February. So four years’ difference. Not that big of a deal.”

“Glad one of us thinks so.”

It’s a sassy statement, but Harry takes it in stride. He’s not going to let Louis out of this conversation. Harry’s too invested, too curious at this point to know.

“Well Louis, despite your horribly pessimistic thinking, I’m rather enjoying your company for the few minutes that it’s worth, and I don’t want to be anywhere else but here right now. With you, telling me about that picture.”

Louis shakes his head in continued disbelief, as he softly chuckles some more. It’s not a huge reaction, but it’s something, and Harry will take that as a win.

“Why do you want to know so bad?”

“I’m not really sure I know that myself, but I have all these clues that I’d like to piece together.”

“Right, well…I have questions too. Do you mind if I ask them first, and then we can get into the fun part of this bit?”

“Sure, why not?”

“How did you find this?”

“I told you already.”

“No…really. Tell me everything that happened leading up to finding this picture.”

Harry sighs, and then takes another sip of his drink, before going into detail.

“I just moved into my new flat today. My mum had left to go to an appointment, and I was bringing my last box up. When I got back to my flat, I looked around and I was extremely excited because it’s my first place. I decided I better start on unpacking as soon as I can, so I took my box full of kitchen supplies, and was going to put them in the cupboard, when I opened the door and this piece of paper fell out. I bent down to pick it up off the floor where it had landed, and I looked at the image, and I thought that the person I was staring at was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Then I turned it over, and saw what was written on the back, and assumed it probably meant a lot to someone, and felt it best to return it to its’ rightful owner. Hence going to my neighbors across the hall, Niall and Liam, who then gave me your number.”

Louis had been staring at the back of the sheet where the writing ‘Falling For You’ was scripted, until Harry’s last words to his story were uttered, and Louis’ attention was brought back to the younger boy.

“I’m not beautiful…it’s the artist that made me look so good.”

“I respectfully disagree.”

Louis studies Harry, stalling to ask another question as he silently scrutinizes from across the table. Harry isn’t sure what he’s looking for. Maybe he’s trying to see if Harry is lying, or maybe he’s trying to see if Harry is aiming to smooth Louis over with compliments. However, that’s not Harry’s goal. Harry doesn’t just want to give Louis compliments so that he can get what he wants out of this, and then leave. He’s genuinely interested, and he’s being genuine with everything that he’s saying. Meaning that yes, he really thinks Louis is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. In fact, he thinks the image doesn’t do him an ounce of justice, because all of Louis’ essence is in his eyes, and a black and white drawing just doesn’t cut it. But truthfully, no shade of color would be comparable to that of his hypnotizing gaze, either.

“You said you live across from Niall and Liam. Like, their door is facing your door?”

“Yes?”

He takes in the information but doesn’t press on about that subject any further. Harry is encased with riddles, all curiously jumbled with wanting to know the thoughts going on in Louis’ head. But after accepting Harry’s answer, Louis takes two chugs of his drink leaving the glass empty except for the ice, and then returns back to the conversation.

“His name was Zayn Malik. We used to work together in an office, I did filing bullshit while he was a graphic designer. He was always drawing, leaving little scribbled masterpieces on people’s desks to cheer them up, or just because. We were twenty-four at the time.”

“Were you both friends?”

“I don’t know that you could call what Zayn and I were ‘friends.’ We hit it off right from the beginning, but there was always this underlying tension. Every touch felt intense, every gaze was held with a little more. He was a force to be reckoned with, as cliché as that is.”

“When did he draw that of you?”

“I don’t know when he drew it, but I know the exact moment I found it. Me and some other colleagues were coming back from a meeting, and my boss told me to bring some paperwork to Zayn’s desk. When I went into his office, he wasn’t there, so I went to leave the files right on top of his other work. It was done innocently; I didn’t mean to shuffle his work around. But of course, I knocked over some pile of things, and low and behold, a sheet comes flying at my feet. You can probably imagine my shock to look down and see me own face.”

It’s unusual to Harry that the drawing happened to present itself to Louis in the same manner it had done to him. Flying out of nowhere, landing directly at their feet. Not that Harry really believes in fate or destiny, but thinking it could be caused by one of those concepts does strike Harry oddly.

“So what did you do?”

“I picked it up and I confronted him about it later that day, when everyone had pretty much gone home.”

“That’s a vague ending. What happened? Did you end up together? Are you still with him now?”

“No. Unfortunately, it’s not that kind of a story, Harold.”

Louis peers away from the younger boy, and the expression on his face tells Harry that this story doesn’t end up well, although he’s not precisely sure how. Harry figures it’s better not to press on, and goes for a different approach instead.

“Well, whether they do or don’t now, the artist that drew that picture was in love with the person when they did it. No way in denying it. It’s evident in every single etch, and in every single line. He loved you, and hopefully, that still means something.”

Louis’ eyes are glossy, and he fidgets with his fingers that are propped up on the table in front of him. Harry’s sure he won’t say anything in response, and in fact, he’s just about to call it a night, when the raspy northern accent calls out to him.

“It does, Harry. It means everything.”

As Louis looks back down at the paper now fondly, there’s a sharp twinge in Harry’s heart that he’s not sure what for. He tries to ignore it, but when Louis doesn’t lift his head back up to Harry for a while, and only after the older boy has placed the drawing safely away in his pocket, does Harry potentially grasp something previously unbeknownst to him. That maybe…maybe in the furthest, deepest, most desolate corner of his mind, he might have a slight idea as to why he’s feeling envious of a crumpled piece of paper.

* * * *

**Saturday**

Brushing his shoulder-length coffee curls away from his face, Harry glares in the mirror as he adjusts his shirt. Everything needs to be aligned and orderly. Once every strand is perfectly in place, Harry washes his hands at the sink, and then spritzes himself with complimentary cologne. He looks back in the mirror one last time, until he decides he’s suitable to head back out to the restaurant. He’s at  _Dominick’s_ , one of the nicest Italian spots in the city.

“Harry, glad you found your way back. I ordered us some linguine with clams in white wine sauce. I also got a bottle of Dom Perignon.”

Sliding back into the chair, and placing his white napkin on his lap, Harry takes a sip of water before straightening his back and responding.

“Sounds lovely, Mr. Cardone.”

The man sitting across from Harry is well into his fifties, gray pieces dusting in between his faded blonde hairs, and brown eyes that Harry’s sure were wonderfully vibrant in their day.

“As usual Harry, I expect you to eat half the food and only a glass of wine.”

“Yes sir, understood.”

“Need to keep you in peak physical condition. How’s that trainer that I hired for you?”

“He’s great, thank you. We’re meeting every other week.”

“Hold on.”

Mr. Cardone pulls out his phone to see that he’s receiving a call, and motions for Harry to give him a second as he leaves the table to take it outside. He’s one of the wealthiest men in the city currently, which means he always needs to be able to answer his calls. It doesn’t upset Harry like it used to, Harry’s grown accustomed to a lot of things due to Mr. Cardone, that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. Harry’s very grateful and appreciative of the man, and so who cares that he has to take a few calls and can only see Harry for an hour once a week…who is Harry to complain?

When the food comes to the table, Harry waits another ten minutes before Mr. Cardone has returned from his call and fixes himself again in his seat. Peering at Harry, the man takes a bite of the pasta that waits in front of them, and proceeds to start up another conversation.

“So Harry, how is your new flat? It’s to your liking, I presume?”

Trying to remember to keep his elbows off the table, Harry finishes the bite he has in his mouth, before taking a sip of water and responding to the question.

“Yes, it is. Living in the city will be much easier for getting to my job, and you, as well.”

Mr. Cardone nods his head, takes a long sip of his wine, and then glimpses at Harry a second time as the younger boy takes a bite.

“Harry, don’t you think that’s quite enough?”

“Yes, sorry Mr. Cardone. You’re right.”

Placing his fork gently down on top of the white table cloth, Harry makes sure it’s perfectly straight as it lays against the table. He had only consumed five bites of food; he counts every time he dines with the older man. Thankfully, Harry’s learned to eat before meeting up with him, knowing fully well that he’s never properly fed.

“Good, I’ll take that back with me for leftovers. Same goes for the wine.”

Harry hadn’t even had a drop of the wine, his glass left unfilled, but that’s okay. He doesn’t particularly like red wine, anyways.

“Thank you, for lunch.”

“Thank you for joining me. Will you be accompanying me back to my room afterward?”

The question is asked after every meal they have eaten together. As of late, it’s become less of a question and more of a statement, however, Harry responds all the same.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Cardone.”

There’s a smirk that ascends upon the man’s face, and it always gives Harry hope, though he’s never sure why. No matter how many times the man has up and left after they were done, no matter how many times the man addresses Harry like he’s his employee, no matter how many times the man disappears without a word, Harry still has hope. But to be quite honest, Harry knows fully well that he no longer should.

* * * *

“I’d like three Long Island Iced Teas, please.”

Behind the counter, Harry is dressed in a white button-up shirt, with a black buttoned vest over his top, and a black bowtie to finish the look. It’s his work attire, what he has to wear every time he comes to ‘The Regency’ for his shifts. It’s a lavish bar and lounge, that often is filled with exclusive private parties and well-known public figures. He’s been working here for a year, ever since he graduated from Uni, and while it was only meant as an intermediate job to his actual career, he hasn’t been able to make that next step forward just yet. So bartending it is, until he finds anything better.

“Coming right up.”

The woman that ordered the drinks is acquainted with a party that’s being hosted at their place tonight. It’s for some music label that is celebrating an anniversary of working with some highly successful client. Harry only half listened when his boss was informing them about the importance of efficiency earlier in the evening. After he fixes her the drinks she requested, he places them on the counter and gives her his most charming smile.

“Here you go, love.”

The woman smiles back bashfully, and then leaves a generous tip on the counter. If that’s all it’s going to take tonight, Harry thinks, it’s going to be easy money made.

“Corona, please.”

As the gentleman’s voice trails over the noise to Harry, Harry nods his head and gets right to work. Four more hours, he thinks thankfully, and then he’s home.

* * * *

“You all did exceptionally well this evening, course I expected no less. You’re free to leave, goodnight!”

Harry’s boss Roger is not the kind of person to be messed with. If Harry ever did anything other than what the man wants, he’d be back on the streets and looking for a job, and maybe with a few new bruises. Despite his reputation though, Roger’s been a good boss. He’s never overt with his emotions, but every now and then, such as tonight – he cracks a smile.

As Harry says his goodbyes and makes his way out into the midnight air, summer leaving the city in sticky heat, he pulls out his phone to occupy his time during his twenty-minute walk back to his place. It’s nice to get some fresh air, and after a long day of blaring music and drunken customers, it’s wonderful to just be in the quiet. If only that quiet could last the duration of Harry’s journey, but as he finds three minutes into it, that’s just not what life has planned for him.

Turning a corner, Harry is met with a street littered with pedestrians standing and drinking. This particular location does have a few bars, but it’s never to the extent that it is tonight, and there’s never been more than a handful of people out to smoke, that stand on the sidewalks. Surveying his surroundings curiously, Harry tries to identify what the reason is for all the chaos, when a person calls out to him amidst all the noise.

“Harry!”

Pursuing the sound that rings in his ear familiarly, Harry shifts his body to find none other than Louis Tomlinson, a few feet away from him. He seems to be standing with Niall, and Liam, who also wave him over energetically.

“Hello, lads. Fancy seeing you here. What’s the occasion?”

Harry makes his way over to the boys as he calls out to them, which results in sloppy smiles and flushed cheeks. Liam decides he must be the best to answer, so he responds to the question first.

“There’s a special going on tonight for drinks, and a few of the popular local bands are playing, which is what must have attracted most of these people.”

Harry nods his head as he takes in the information, and then Niall speaks next.

“Yeah, Louis wanted to check out the music, see if they’re any good. Liam and I had nothing going on, so we figured, why not?”

“That’s nice, yeah I just got out of work actually. On my way home.”

Louis raises an eyebrow to Harry’s comment with interest, and then questions Harry.

“You were working tonight? Where?”

“The Regency. We were hosting an event for-”

“Sutton Entertainment, yeah that’s the company I work for.”

Louis finishes Harry’s sentence, leaving the tired boy a little surprised.

“You work for that Talent Management firm? They’re highly recognized in the industry-”

“Yeah, but enough about boring work. You said you’re on your way home? Would you care to make a stop and hang out with us?”

Niall and Liam shake their heads in approval, which touches Harry, but he’s beyond the point of exhausted after his day with Mr. Cardone, and having to work an event.

“I would love to, but I’m honestly knackered. You have my number though, yeah? Text me with plans and I’ll be more than happy to come out next time.”

“Alright then. We’ll see you later. Bye Harry!”

The other two say good-bye to Harry in tandem with Louis, and then Harry returns to his walk back home. With his back turned, and eyes downcast to his phone, he can barely hear the words of a drunken Niall talking a bit too loudly to the other two.

“I like that Harry. Good lad.”

And then he can hear a higher toned voice with a distinct accent, respond back.

“Me too, Niall. Me too.”

An affectionate grin sprawls on Harry’s face, and it doesn’t disappear until Harry’s well asleep, taken by his unyielding dreams.

* * * *

**Sunday**

Sunday comes to Harry early in the morning, thanks to a deafening ringtone violating his sleep. He snakes his arm out from under the sheets, while making sure to keep the rest of his body happily covered, as he pats around for his phone. Nearly knocking a few things over, he finally grabs onto his device, and pulls it back under the covers along with his arm to answer the call that’s woken him up.

“Hi, Mum.”

Harry says these words with sleep heavily deepening their sound, and a rather hefty ounce of annoyance nipping at their tone. Ignorant to what Harry tries to make obvious though, his Mum continues on as chipper and content as ever.

“Harry, love. I’ve been thinking! How would you feel about Gemma and I coming to visit next weekend?”

Letting out a yawn, Harry then sniffs as he goes to answer what she’s asked.

“Mum, I told you already that I work weekends. If you want me to take off time, it has to be three weeks in advance or Roger won’t let me.”

“Right! Why not three weeks from now, then?”

“Sure, whatever. Just send me the dates you’re thinking of coming, and I’ll discuss it with my boss.”

“Great, can’t wait!”

Rolling his body over so that he’s laying completely on his back, Harry huffs out a sigh at what seems to be the only purpose of his Mum’s call.

“Is this really the only reason you phoned?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s eight a.m. Next time you call me, can you please make sure it’s after noon.”

“You’re going to have to get used to a proper schedule. This is the time adults get up.”

“Not when they work until two in the morning.”

“Fine. Noon it is. I’ll talk to Gemma and then we’ll text you the dates.”

“Sounds good.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Needless to say, Harry spends the rest of his Sunday in bed, except for the few times he has to go to the bathroom and eat. It might not be the kind of productive he was planning on being when he manages to finish a show he’d been watching on Netflix, but it was absolutely the kind that he needed. The past few days had been a lot, and he just needed a few hours after that to relax.

* * * *

**Wednesday**

It’s three in the afternoon, which means Harry should start considering his options for dinner, when he gets a text from an unknown number. Picking up his phone, he looks down at the message on his screen.

**Me and the lads are going out tomorrow night. Interested?**

Hoping severely it’s the person he thinks it is, he texts back his reply, as a dopey grin embellishes the dimple on his face.

**_Where at and what time? Should be fine with me_ **

**Ruston’s @ 8pm :)**

**_Alright, see you there!_ **

The conversation is short lived, but Harry spends all night contemplating the meaning of the smiley face Louis sends. And then contemplating about why he’s contemplating the stupid silly symbol. What does it matter what Louis sends him? They’re hardly even friends. Right?

* * * *

**Thursday**

During the day, Harry utilizes his time to go grocery shopping and clean his flat. Most of the boxes have been unpacked at this point, so the flat just needs a good scrub. After he’s accomplished most of what was on his list of chores to do, Harry begins to chop up veggies to add to his chicken for dinner, when he receives a text.

**Are you free?**

Mr. Cardone hardly texts Harry out of the blue like this, but it has happened. The last two times it occurred, he was taken to a hotel for the night, and Mr. Cardone let out some pent up frustration by smacking Harry’s arse so hard he couldn’t sit for days. He’s sure there’s no good to come from a text like this one, but he also has never said no to the man before. Could he even say that? What would honestly happen if he did?

**_I have plans to go to a bar with some friends._ **

**I’ll pick you up at seven.**

Apparently that’s what will happen. He’ll ignore that Harry even said he was busy, and grab him anyways. Well that just fucking sucks. Annoyed at the turn of events, Harry texts out a rushed message to Louis about not feeling well, and then shuts off his phone for the rest of the night. When seven rolls around, Harry goes downstairs to find Mr. Cardone waiting for him, with his white Maserati parked on the side of the street. Harry doesn’t attempt to look pleased about his visit.

* * * *

**Friday**

“Harry, I need you on the floor tonight. Sarah said she’s sick, so she’s not coming in.”

“I haven’t worked the floor since the first two weeks I worked here.”

“There’s nothing else I can do. And table ten has already sat down, so you need to hurry up.”

His boss leaves him at that, and Harry turns around agitatedly to table ten. Working the floors means being a waiter, and there’s a reason Harry isn’t doing that anymore. He’s too clumsy to manage carrying out the food without a few mishaps along the way, and Roger figured staying behind the counter is the safest way to ensure Harry’s out of harm’s path. When the change was made early on in his job, Harry honestly was thrilled. He always preferred dealing with one or two people at a time, versus dealing with a group all at once.

“Hello and welcome to ‘The Regency,’ my names Harry and I’ll be your waiter for this evening. Have any of you been here before?”

The three gentlemen sitting around at the table all shake their heads in unison, signaling that they have already been to the bar on some other occasion.

“Alright great. Just as a reminder, this menu right here has a list of all our specials for the week. In the meantime, can I start you off with something to drink?”

The men clearly know what they want, so it doesn’t take long for Harry to write down their drink orders and head back behind the bar to make them. As he’s busy mixing one of the drinks, a voice he’s beginning to recognize all too well, calls to him from the counter.

“Harry Styles! Long time no see!”

Glancing up, Louis peers at Harry with a marvelous grin and heavenly eyes. Harry returns the smile giddily, and then leans closer to talk with the older boy, only delaying his movement for a second when Louis’ scent captures Harry in a chokehold of herbal, woody wonder. The smell is as if Louis’ cologne and cup of tea formulated together, lathering his body in their poignant scent. It’s perfect.

“Louis Tomlinson! What on earth are you doing here?”

“Well I haven’t seen you around, and you said you worked here. Thought I’d stop by to say hi, although that’s making me sound creepy, innit?”

Harry chuckles at Louis who seems only a tiny ounce embarrassed.

“No, not at all! But I’m afraid I’m not bartending tonight. I’m working as a waiter. Won’t be able to talk much.”

“That’s alright! You do want you need to do, I’ll just be here!”

And that’s exactly what happens. For the rest of the night, Harry tends to table after table, while Louis sits in the furthest stool to the left. He doesn’t engage in much conversation with anyone except for Perrie who is serving drinks at the bar, and Harry when he manages to walk close enough by. After two more hours of work, and the place nearing closing time, Harry finally gets a chance to talk with him, but only to offer bad news.

“Hey Louis, we’re closing up in the next fifteen minutes. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come and talk more.”

“That’s okay. I can wait for you, if you want?”

“Wait for me to get out?”

“Yeah, I can walk with you home.”

“Do you even live near me?”

“No, but I’ve been known to crash at Niall and Liam’s more often than not.”

“You sure? I mean I don’t mind, I’d love the company, but don’t want to be an inconvenience for you.”

“You’re not an inconvenience. I offered, didn’t I? Take your time getting done with what you need to, and I’ll just be waiting outside.”

“Okay!”

Puzzled does not even begin to describe the confusion tumbling around in his brain. Louis came here by himself just to see Harry? He’s willing to wait outside to walk home, with Harry? There’s something underneath the actions, between the words, that’s the real reason as to why Louis must want to talk with him, and Harry’s just not sure if he should bring it up or wait for Louis to do it himself.

But Harry waits, because he needs to finish cleaning up the tables quickly anyways, but then by the time he makes it outside, Louis is standing under a streetlamp looking absolutely breath-taking. The light floats around Louis like tiny fairies, making him radiate by their magic. And then Louis hears Harry come out, and he looks up at the younger boy through his long eyelashes that are barely protecting his ocean eyes from crashing against Harry’s ribs, and flooding his measly heart. Once Louis smiles and then stands, patiently waiting for Harry to make his way over to him, Harry’s pretty much forgotten what he was meant to say.

“That didn’t take so long! Do you like working there? It’s got a good vibe, but that place is constantly busy. Usually the kind of place I avoid on a Friday night.”

As Harry makes his way closer to Louis, Louis initiates their trek home with a question asking about Harry’s work. As Harry listen, he paces idly beside the older boy, letting his feet step in rhythm with Louis’ own.

“Yeah, I mean I wasn’t ever planning on working there as long as I have, but I haven’t had much luck job hunting.”

It’s not entirely false, it’s true that the market for jobs involving photography is slim to none, but Harry hasn’t really made an attempt at applying anywhere, either. With bartending, and then everything that’s happening with Mr. Cardone, he’s not sure he could completely switch his hours to a nine to five shift so easily. Mr. Cardone probably wouldn’t even let Harry work at a place that wouldn’t allow him to be available when he’s needed. So there’s that, too.

“What did you graduate with?”

“Photography and a minor in business. Just in case.”

“That’s a good idea.”

As their feet are shuffling along the pavement, making their way to Harry’s, the conversation dies. Harry’s not sure what to fill the small talk with when he knows that there’s a reason Louis’ here, but he also doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up. Instead, he reaches for his phone to distract him from the tension, when Louis begins again.

“Uhm, so Harry…as I’m sure you’re aware, I obviously didn’t come out just to walk you home.”

“I kinda figured.”

“Right. I just…I know when someone’s faking sick, done it myself a few times too, you know? And I wasn’t going to say anything back to your text yesterday, but I thought…well maybe it has to do with me? You probably think I’m crazy, or rude, or something along those lines thanks to the day we met, but I promise I’m really not.”

“Louis…no. I do not think that at all. I still don’t know everything that happened involving Zayn, yeah? But I’m glad I brought the picture to you. I’m glad you have it now, and I’m glad that we met because of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Louis’ face brightens, and while yes, it’s unprecedentedly lovely, Harry wonders why that is. Why is it that Louis is suddenly looking this way at him? The questions don’t settle long in his mind before Louis’ voice pulls him back to their walk.

“So why is it that you didn’t come out with us?”

“I…erm. I got a text last minute from this guy I’m seeing, and last night was the only night we could catch up for a few days. I hate lying, honestly, but I thought that saying I was sick was easier than telling you I was leaving you for other plans.”

“I would have understood, but ‘s alright. Let’s just be honest with one another from now on, yeah?”

That sounds like a nice idea, except that Harry can’t do that because Harry can’t be honest about who he’s actually seeing. Which means that Harry can’t be honest about half of the issues that go on in his life, but it shouldn’t matter anyways, right? Because Louis’ hardly a friend, so what’s Harry worrying about?

“Honesty is the best policy.”

Harry extends his right hand out while he says the rhyme, and the two shake to their agreement, and to their newfound friendship. After the tension has entirely subsided, they spend the rest of their time discussing pure none-sense, before Louis walks into the other lads flat, and Harry walks into his. Once Harry’s inside his space, he can’t help but be overjoyed at the thought of making new friends, as lame as that may be. Since he graduated from Uni he hasn’t had anyone to hang out or talk with, and after a while, being alone gets lonely.

* * * *

**Saturday**

Showering is a lengthy process, especially when Harry has to maintain his body a certain way for Mr. Cardone. It’s a rigorous routine involving multiple face wash products, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, exfoliate, particular grooming measures, and then at the end of it all, lotion. Harry’s memorized these steps to the point that they’ve become second nature, plus, he doesn’t want the repercussions of what it could mean if he doesn’t follow them thoroughly.

After showering, Harry throws on his nicest button up shirt, black pants, and ankle boots, grabs a pair of aviator sunglasses, and then makes his way out to the restaurant. It’s Saturday again, which means that Harry is having lunch at one of the few exclusive, and also private, restaurants in the city. It also means that Harry should have probably eaten something before he left, because he’ll be starving later.  _Damn it,_  he mumbles to himself.

When Harry enters the restaurant, he can already see where the older man is sitting, a few tables away from the front entrance. With a grin to the hostess, Harry strolls past her, and on his way to Mr. Cardone. As he sits down, Harry sense the man’s eyes watching him, analyzing every move that the younger boy is making. Harry finds that he does this a lot, and Harry always feels like he’s under a microscope when he does it. Trying to find something to comment about. Trying to find something to say, in regards to what Harry’s done wrong.

“I see you’re wearing the shirt I bought you. Looks nice. I will have to get you some more soon.”

“Yes, it fits very well, thank you. I’d love another.”

“I hope you don’t mind but I already ordered for the both of us. I ordered the rack of lamb, and a bottle of red wine.”

This doesn’t come as a surprise to Harry. The older man always buys for the two of them, never having asked once what Harry would like or maybe want to suggest. In the beginning, Harry was affronted by it, but he realized soon that it was never going to change, learning that it was just how things were going to be.

“Sounds lovely.”

“Great. Oh, and Harry? We didn’t really get to much talking the other night, but you mentioned having plans with friends. Who are these ‘friends’ you’re referring too?”

A red tint surfaces on Harry’s cheeks, and he’s not sure why he feels fearful to talk about them. To talk about Louis. A huge part of Harry wants to keep them as his secret, but he argues with his inner self that there’s nothing worth hiding.

“Oh…erm, just some people who live in the same building as me. Bumped into them when I was moving in and they invited me out.”

Mr. Cardone nods his head before taking a sip of his wine, and then talks again.

“I hope that they don’t cause a problem for us. As it is, we have a very hard time finding when we both are free. If you’re unable to manage your schedule with them included, you’re going to have to decline their invitations. We wouldn’t want anyone giving us trouble, now would we?”

“No sir. I understand. You always come first.”

“Good boy. Why don’t I have them make our meals to go, and we can head back to the hotel room?”

“That would be great.”

So clearly this did not turn out as Harry would have expected. And on top of that, he didn’t get to eat at all.  _Fucking great,_ he mumbles softly.

* * * *

**Are you working tonight?**

Sitting on his couch, having consumed mounds and mounds of Chinese food that he picked up on his way back from ‘lunch,’ Harry’s phone vibrates. When he looks down at the message, he finds it’s Louis that had contacted him.

**_Yes I am :(_ **

**Well I’m bored and lonely tonight, mind if I come and visit again?**

**_Not at all! Where’s Niall and Liam?_ **

**Some work event. And alright, see you then!**

**_See you!_ **

While the day had certainly not gone well, at least there’s renewed hope for the night. Harry lays his phone back down, and rests his feet up on the coffee table. He has a few more hours of watching Cupcake Wars until he has to get himself together, and to no one in particular, he admits he’s actually excited about seeing Louis again.

* * * *

“Nice eyes is back.”

Perrie whispers into Harry’s ear while he’s adjusting his vest in the back room. Cocking his head to the side in confusion at the pink haired girl with wide blue eyes, he looks around, and then asks her a question in return.

“Nice eyes?”

“Mhmm! Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Running his fingers through his mahogany strands to adjust his hair’s position on his head, Harry laughs at the oddly eager girl, and then heads back out to the bar. When he enters into the room and gets behind the counter, immediately he sees Louis, and wonders if that’s who she was referring to as ‘nice eyes.’

“Louis! You’re here. What a nice surprise.”

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Louis leans forward on the counter to talk more directly with Harry.

“Very funny. Good to see you too. How has your day gone so far?”

“Well…I had lunch with the guy I’m talking to earlier, got Chinese food afterwards cause I was starving, and then sat on my couch watching Cupcake Wars until I had work. I’d say it was a pretty productive day.”

“Wait…you got Chinese after eating lunch? How were you possibly hungry?”

It was a small admission that Harry didn’t think much of. Not only did he not think it was anything substantial, but he never thought Louis would have picked up on it. Flustered, Harry tries to think of anything to say to make it sound less strange.

“Erm...yeah, well…just hungry all the time.”

 _Good God Styles…was that even a sentence?_  Harry wants to face palm his forehead in hopes of knocking some sense back into his brain, but Louis continues on as if Harry hadn’t just muttered absolute nonsense.

“Yeah? Niall’s like that too. I swear he could eat a five course meal for lunch, and do it all over again for dinner, and then be hungry still for dessert. He’s a monster.”

Harry chuckles along with Louis, and silently is thankful for avoiding the topic they were edging dangerously close to.

“That’s amazing. I’d love to see that in person.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, tomorrow? I’m gonna crash at their place again tonight, which means I can walk you home. But tomorrow, if you’re free, you should come hang out with us.”

“You sure? Don’t want to impose or anything.”

“Ugh, why do you always think you’re like unwanted or something? Come now, none of that! I’m going to ask you to hang out with us again, and you’re going to answer properly this time.”

Giggling, Harry nods his head and then waits for Louis’ face to become serious as he takes on the role of himself, re-asking the question.

“So Harry? Do you want to come hang with me and the lads tomorrow?”

Harry’s trying incredibly hard not to burst out laughing at Louis being strangely goofy, and extremely charming, all at once. But it’s refreshing, and it fills Harry with pride that Louis is already comfortable with Harry enough, that he can unabashedly be himself. As Harry attempts to keep a straight face in playing along with Louis, he then taps his index finger repeatedly on his chin as if he needs to contemplate what his answer is, before shrugging his shoulders and replying.

“Yes.”

“There we go! Simple as that.”

“You’re something else! I do have work tomorrow night so I can’t stay too long, but I’ll definitely stop over.”

Louis’ grin is brighter than a thousand suns when he beams back at Harry, and Harry feels every morsel of its impeccable warmth wash over him like a golden sea. And he’s petrified for what it could mean.

* * * *

After closing up, Louis waits outside for Harry to finish his nightly duties, until they can head back home like last time. Once Harry’s done and outside with Louis, it doesn’t take long for their dialogue to pick up, and Harry’s more than glad for the satisfying distraction from his otherwise stressful life.

“Harry?”

“Hmm? Oh sorry, zoned out for a bit.”

“That’s alright. I asked you if you wanted to bring the guy your seeing…you know, over tomorrow?”

“Oh…no that’s okay. He’s pretty busy so I doubt he’d even have the time.”

“Oh okay. How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“A little over six months.”

“Wow! Must be getting pretty serious. Do you love him?”

Love? Aside from the fact that Louis is asking if Harry loves Mr. Cardone, Louis is also asking if Harry loves. At all. Period. And no…he doesn’t. Love is a fairy tale in his mind of magical castles and handsome princes, that died right along with his childhood. It’s the most mystical creature of mystical creatures that ever existed, except it…as in love…never did.  _Not for people who are gay anyway_ , as Harry’s memories so painfully remind him.

“No. I don’t. I don’t even believe in love honestly. Hypothetically, it sounds nice. But realistically, that just doesn’t happen.”

“Really now, Harold? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a pessimist.”

“Why? Do you believe in it?”

“Believe in it… have felt it…”

“You’ve been in love? Like full-fledged?”

“Yes, and it’s hard to explain, so forgive my poor description. But it’s kind of like I had been stripped of everything except for all my flaws and faults, leaving them exposed, and yet I was still being told that I was perfect. I know it doesn’t make much sense, and I don’t know how to verbalize it well, but I knew I felt it. Fully.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond. Louis’ depiction sounded great in theory, and Harry was left even secretly hoping that something half as nice as that happens to him, but he knows better. He knows what lies ahead of him, and love is not in the plans for his future. Far from it.

* * * *

**Sunday**

The morning sky is dressed in grey, rain patters lightly onto the building, and Harry’s flat is crowded with shadows. Typically, Harry enjoys these mornings when the sunlight isn’t burning relentlessly into his barely opened eyes, but today, it’s awfully dreary for the optimistic way he’s feeling. He’s getting to hang out with the lads, and he’s been looking forward to it since Louis offered the invitation.

Pulling his heavy body out of bed, Harry makes his sheets, and then goes off to brush his teeth. Once he’s teeth are clean, he then splashes cold water onto his face to rinse his skin. It’s not his usual morning routine, but Harry’s only going over to hang out, meaning there’s no real point to doing much when he’s just going to be lounging around in his joggers all afternoon. After checking himself over one more time in the mirror, he grabs his keys, phone, and wallet, and heads over to the flat across the hall.

The minute that Harry’s hand knocks against the door, it’s swung open rapidly to a cheery Niall beckoning Harry inside. Obediently, Harry grins and then walks behind him, entering into the flat that is nearly identical in layout to his own.

“Hello!”

Harry greets Louis and Liam, who are sitting on the couch playing FIFA, as Niall heads into the kitchen to make some food. Louis calls out to Harry, but doesn’t pull his eyes away from the screen as his footie team is kicking the ball past one of Liam’s players.

“Hey! Come on in, make yourself at home.”

Liam counters Louis’ comment with a smirk, as Harry takes a seat next to Louis on the couch.

“Like you do so wonderfully?”

“Oi! That’s what best mates are for.”

“I don’t recall that in the handbook.”

“Liam don’t be daft. It’s there on the first page, right next to ‘shut the fuck up.”

Liam narrows his eyes as he’s about to say something back, but Louis does some move on the videogame, and within seconds, wins against Liam.

“Yeeeessssss!”

“Dammit Louis, you cheated!”

“Did not! Harry, tell him I didn’t cheat!”

“Oh, I am not getting involved. Something tells me it wouldn’t end well for me.”

Niall comes back in at that moment with a sandwich in his right hand, and jokes back with Harry.

“Good thinking, mate. These two are always starting shit.”

Liam and Louis bicker for a few more minutes as Niall finds his way to a chair next to the couch, and Harry just chuckles as he watches the two argue. After it’s all sorted, Louis leans his body further back on the couch, which causes his arm to press up against Harry’s, and then turns his focus to talk to the younger lad.

“So Harold, this is your first lad experience with us, you enjoying it so far?”

“Surprisingly yes. I’d take the loud banter over my quiet flat any day.”

This time, Liam questions from the other side of the couch.

“How’re you enjoying your flat, so far?”

“It’s great! My shower handle is a little funky though, I might have to have that checked out, but otherwise it’s all good.”

Louis responds unconsciously to Harry’s problem.

“You have to twist the handle all the way to the left, and then go back from there to the temperature you want.”

“Have you…have you been in my flat?”

Niall and Liam are staring at Louis as he appears a bit transfixed by his own words, stunned that they had fallen from his mouth. Harry’s curious, how can Louis know about the handle in his flat? Harry’s never invited him in.

“Oh...uhm...used to know one of the tenants that lived there previously.”

Looking around, Harry tries to find if Niall and Liam are agreeing with this answer as well, but they are glancing anywhere other than at the two boys. If Louis’ response wasn’t evidence enough, their expressions completely give it away. They’re all conveying that there’s definitely more to this story, and Louis clearly doesn’t want to tell Harry.

“Erm, alright.”

In need of help to rid this room of its tension, Harry parts his lips to say something else, when he receives a text. The vibration of his phone comes through like a blow horn, blaring in the silence, drawing all the boys’ eyes towards him. As he leans forward to the table to see the notification that’s shown upon his phone, Harry frowns at the contact that he reads on the screen. Mr. Cardone.

**Picking you up in 20.**

Harry releases an audible sigh and whispers a curse under his breath.

“Fuck.”

Forgetting that the others are watching him, Louis cocks his head at the apparent disappointment, and questions Harry’s actions.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just that guy I’m seeing. He said he’s on his way to pick me.”

Louis’s face expresses something akin to upset, and it scratches into Harry’s heart like talons.

“Does that mean you have to leave?”

“Yeah, ‘m sorry. I really wish I didn’t have to.”

“So don’t, tell him your busy.”

“It’s not that easy, Louis. I can’t say that to him.”

Niall and Liam fall into the background of Harry and Louis’ conversation, as if they’re in their own bubble apart from the rest of the world. Harry wants to stay. He wants to get to know the others, and get to know Louis, and he wants to officially have friends he can enjoy himself around with. But unfortunately, that’s not happening today.

There’s a brief thought where Harry wonders why Mr. Cardone is even texting him at all, but Harry doesn’t know how to make of that. Maybe the reason is because Harry mentioned hanging out with friends yesterday, but would he do that? Would he try seeing Harry more just to take away the time he’d have to spend with the lads? It seems far-fetched, but then again, nothing’s impossible.

**Outside**

The text that lights across Harry’s phone, causes the boy to internally suffer. He’s mentally disintegrating in front of everyone in the room, all his emotions and thoughts crumbling to dust under the penetrating rays of Louis’ solemn orbs. Harry just wants to fix it. He wants to give Louis back the sunshine that Harry knows he’s taken away, and give it back to him a thousand times over. Harry just wants to see him smile, and so much of Harry doesn’t understand why that is. Can’t comprehend why he feels like this. But his phone starts vibrating with a call, and their time together is all too soon gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I couldn't wait to update, so here's another chapter! I'll update again Friday, and maybe I'll even have the last chapter up by Sunday! Sorry for the change in plans, I'm just too impatient! Anyways, I hope you're all liking it so far, and that you like this new chapter!! :) :) I'd love to hear feedback :) :)

**Monday**

“Harry, tell me something.”

The couch is a wonderful companion for Monday’s festivity of watching ‘Chopped.’ Harry’s only movement from the beloved cushions is to make himself a protein shake, and go to the bathroom. After he’s returned, and comfortably back on the dark blue microfiber, he reaches to press play on the remote, when his phone starts ringing. To his pleasant surprise, it’s his sister Gemma.

“What?”

“What’s the real reason you don’t want Mum and I to come visit you? I know there is one, because you’ve been finding issues with all the dates we’ve offered, so at least tell me what’s actually going on.”

“There’s nothing-”

“I’ve known you your entire life, if you think I’m falling for that lie, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ugh, fine. Fine. I’m still seeing Mr. Cardone.”

There’s a shrill grasp on the other end of the line, and then his name is being yelled louder than is really necessary, at least in Harry’s opinion.

“Harry Edward Styles!”

“Stop…don’t talk to me like Mum.”

“You promised! You said you would end it!”

“I know, I know.”

“Harry, that guy does _not_  treat you right.”

“Look Gemma, I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you were going to lecture me about it.”

“I’m not lecturing…I’m concerned. But fine, if that’s how you see it I won’t say anything else.”

“Gemma…”

“I know this is your life, Harry. I know that it’s your right to make your own decisions, but for once, can you stop and think about the repercussions of some of these choices? Can you stop and think about the lasting effects that they’ll have on you?”

“What are you even going on about?”

“I’m talking about the way he treats you Harry! You need someone who’ll support you and love you, not bring you down.”

“Those kinds of people, and those kinds of things, they don’t exist Gem.”

“God I just want to strangle you sometimes! I’m done! Go and keep depriving yourself of a better life, see if I care when you’re broken and unfixable!”

Gemma hangs up on Harry with the power of an angry rhino, and Harry throws his phone across the room with similar force. Harry loves Gemma, he does, but there are things about his life that she doesn’t understand. They may have spent the majority of their childhood entangled in hugs, building forts, and telling stories, but there is a very significant part of Harry’s life that she was not a witness too. And that part, that part of Harry’s life that she doesn’t know, is so paramount to the way he’s become and the decisions he’s made. There are all these scars that line his body like tiny stars of memories, but there’s this one scar, the sun of all scars, that is most apparent above the rest. And for that, Harry can’t forget. For that, Harry is the way he is.

* * * *

**Tuesday**

There are few things that Harry enjoys more than getting a chance to go for a jog in the early morning air. Expanding his legs each step at a time, the atmosphere splashes liquid cool against his face as it keeps his body temperature down, while the effects of morning dew invade his smell as he passes each patch of grass. In his mouth, his minted tongue tastes stronger with every pop of his gum, which is roaring in sound amidst the quietness that envelopes the city as people wake from their sleep. But above all else, it’s the view that ignites Harry’s veins as the sun paints orange sorbet swirls against the cotton candy coated sky, and Harry’s senses are just spectacularly overwhelmed… it’s exhilarating. However, one of the few things Harry likes more than running, happens to be a blue eyed boy with an impeccable smile, who’s jogging just up ahead on the path in the park. Smirking to himself, Harry sets his eyes on his target, and picks up his pace to meet up with his mate.

“Louis!”

Louis doesn’t flinch as Harry comes up to him on his left side, keeping pace with the older boys’ stride. Smiling wildly, Louis waves and then greets Harry back.

“Hello there, Harold.”

“Funny  _running_ into you.”

“Clever.”

Louis deadpans, procuring giggles from his companion, as Harry remarks.

“Didn’t take you for a runner.”

“Honestly I wasn’t always, had to force myself to like it at first.”

“Feel like a lot of people are that way. I’ve always liked it, but I’ve been bad lately keeping up with it.”

“Well you can always come run with me, if you need a little boost.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, love. I run every morning this time, just text me when you’re up, and we’ll find a place to meet.”

“I’d like that, a lot actually. Sure you don’t mind?”

“For the millionth time, wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

The boys stay together for another two miles until they make it to a corner where Louis begins to slow down. Harry too, pauses his movements alongside the older lad.

“Do you feel like getting tea or something? I live down this street, so this is the end of my course, but if you want to grab a drink I wouldn’t mind. Though I know you’re still running, so it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“No, sounds great! ‘m parched.”

“Okay, this place is the best! I always stop here on my way to work.”

When they approach the local tea shop just a few stores down, Louis opens the door for Harry, and the two enter inside. Instantly, the smell of coffee beans penetrates their noses within seconds of stepping within the building, and then a light herbal undertone comes slowly afterwards. It doesn’t take long for them to order their drinks of tea, and find a place to sit before their discourse picks up, leaving Harry incredibly content to be spending time with his new friend.

“So Louis, how do you like working as talent management?”

“It’s great. When I was younger I tried getting into the industry, but without connections, it’s near impossible to be discovered or get a good deal. After a while I figured, why don’t I be the person for others that no one was for me? You know? Help someone else out, and give them their shot.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Thanks. I mean it was difficult at first having to give up on my dreams, but looking back, I’m so glad I made the decision that I did. I worked hard to get where I am, but I’m genuinely loving what I’m doing.”

“I really envy you. You may not have succeeded at first, but you kept trying. And in the end, you’re still doing something that you love. I wish I was in the same position.”

“You said you want to do photography, yeah? What specifically would you like to do, since that’s a wide field?”

“It’s silly.”

“I won’t judge, promise.”

Harry stares at Louis to figure out if he’s genuinely serious or not, but when Louis doesn’t falter or laugh even a smidge, Harry knows that he is. That Louis really wants to know. Which is startling to him because aside from his family, no one’s ever asked.

“I’d truthfully love to do weddings or engagements. Cause like…those are some of the happiest times in people’s lives, and I personally think it would be amazing to have a job that’s surrounded by people who are happy, and celebrating. Like always. I know obviously there are always going to be aggravating people to deal with, but overall, like I’d be capturing people in truly blissful moments. And to me, to be a part of that consistently would be unbelievable.”

“That’s really wonderful, Harry. I could definitely see you doing that.”

“Thanks. I hope someday I can.”

Louis sips his tea, while Harry does as well, and then the older lad tilts his head to the side as if unsure of how to approach the next topic.

“I don’t mean to pry, but is there another reason you haven’t done it already? I know you said the market is small, but there has to be something available in a city like this?”

Does Harry want to admit the truth? Does he want to tell Louis the real reason he hasn’t searched for anything? Harry’s initial reaction is not to, but Louis seems concerned, and that sort of tears Harry up more than the idea of just being honest.

“The guy I’m seeing, erm…his schedule is very hectic so there’s specific times where I have to be available to see him. If I were to have a full time job, it would like, be conflicting to those times we see each other.”

“Are you…are you serious? That sounds more to me like he doesn’t support you.”

“No, no…he does! It’s just, he doesn’t like things to get in between us.”

“That’s not fair for you, though. You shouldn’t have to put your career on hold because he can’t move around a few appointments for you?”

“It’s more complicated than that. Look, forget I said anything. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! I should be sorry, I’m being harsh. I just…when you’re in a relationship with someone, both partners need to be willing to compromise for one another, and they both should accept and support the person they love no matter what. When you’re in a relationship, they should be pushing their partner to pursue their dreams, even if it means some unfortunate consequences. Being in a relationship means that you want the best for someone else, and that you want to be alongside them to watch and help them achieve everything that they do. It’s a two way street.”

“I admire your concept of a relationship, but that’s never going to happen for me. I’m never going to find someone who will want to do anything like that for me, nor am I going to find someone who will really love me. The relationships I’m in, are the kind where we have mutually benefitting agreements, but that’s all they are.”

“Harry…how can you think like that? I know there are people that like to think ‘realistically,’ but you’re way beyond that. Your mentality on love, and anything that involves it, are ridiculously distorted. How can you sit there and say no one will ever love you? How can you sit there and say no one will do those kinds of things for you? Have you even tried to find a person like that? Because it sounds to me like the people you’ve allowed to be a part of your life, don’t deserve even a fraction of a minute of it.”

System. Fucking. Overload. Harry is having an internal meltdown from the havoc of Louis’ ideals he’s thrown carelessly at Harry, and Harry can’t handle it. There’s an energy inside of him, at the core of his thumping heart, that is telling him to believe in Louis. To trust in Louis. But why? Why does it want that so much more than it’s ever wanted anything else? And how can Harry do that? How can Harry start to put faith in something that goes against everything he believes in? It’s remarkably tempting, to follow after Louis’ ideas blindly into the light, hoping things will turn out okay, but never knowing for sure if they will. Harry doesn’t take risks like that, Harry’s never taken a risk like that. But Louis…Louis has him thinking that maybe for once, he should. That maybe for once, he might.

“You’re talking so highly about me, but I’m not a good person, Louis. I don’t deserve any form of a happy ending.”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about yourself like that, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

“That is, until you get to know me better, and see me for who I really am.”

“And what…you think I’ll just walk away? Like…‘oh, Harry has some ghosts in his closet, he’s got some baggage, not going to stick around for this.’ I would never. We all have shit that we have to carry on our shoulders, your shit may be different from my shit, but at the end of the day, it’s still just shit.”

Harry is teetering on the edge of his beliefs, only one strong gust of wind away from falling into the abyss of Louis Tomlinson’s words. The proximity his mind is at to drifting towards his metaphorical end, is too close for comfort. Harry gives a quick smile, attempting to keep his cool, and then informs Louis that while their discussion has been enlightening, he really has to go. So with another final wave, Harry leaves Louis behind in the shop, and literally runs away from the orb of bright hopefulness that Louis emits, and back into the arms of his demons. He may not love the crowd he keeps of past mistakes and fears, but he knows those pains, and he finds comfort in knowing exactly how they will hurt him. But Louis…with his joy, and acceptance, and love…they’re all strangers. They’re unidentified beings coming towards him out of nowhere, and Harry hasn’t been more fearful, yet intrigued, in his entire life.

* * * *

**Friday**

The past few days brought on galaxies worth of questions to Harry’s brain, that are exploding with curiosity and confusion against his single-minded thinking. He’s been reevaluating everything thanks to the conversation he had with Louis, and Harry can’t decide if it is a good thing or bad. In addition to that, since Harry has been so affected by the older boy from the last time they talked, he hasn’t been able to gather up enough courage to meet up with Louis in the morning for a run. Even though Louis texted Harry and asked, Harry didn’t feel mentally prepared for further attacks on his ethics. He is still recovering from the last round of grenades.

With that being said, Harry did his best to avoid Louis, but fate as always, has other plans. As Harry fixes his vest one last time till the reflection in his bathroom mirror is sufficient, he nods his head, and then grabs his belongings to head out of his flat for work. Which is when (and this is where fate clearly stepped her big fat enormous foot into things) Harry bumps physically into Louis in the hallway waiting outside Niall and Liam’s place.

“Oi, Curly! Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry! Didn’t see you there.”

Louis squints his eyes in anger, as he snaps at Harry.

“Is that some kind of jab at my height?”

“Oh my god…no…Louis, I would nev-”

Panic goes off in Harry’s head as he sees the way he offended Louis. As he tries to argue that he didn’t mean anything by that, and tries to hold back the tears that are very nearly welling in his eyes, a laugh bursts through the cage of Louis’ lips, and echoes in the hall obnoxiously.

“Wow, Harold. Fucking with you is so easy.”

“Ugh, you’re a menace! I’m heading to work now, sorry I can’t stick around.”

Louis pats Harry on the side of his arm and then waves Harry off.

“Some other time for sure. Oi, maybe we’ll stop by to see you later?”

“That would be great! Bye!”

The rest of the night Harry anxiously watches the door for any recognizable faces to saunter in, but no one ever shows. While there’s a bit of disappointment to it, there’s mostly relief in knowing that he’s narrowly missed another confrontation.

* * * *

**Saturday**

“That meal was divine. Glad I ordered the lobster for us, great choice. Don’t you agree, Harry?”

Mr. Cardone struts ahead of the younger boy as they make their way from the lobby to the hotel room. They have just finished lunch only a few moments ago, and Harry is thankful that this time he was able to get his usual five bites in.

“I do, sir. Best I’ve ever had.”

The two get inside an elevator up to the penthouse suite, and Harry stands silently as Mr. Cardone analyzes him over.

“Slouching’s for the poor, Harry. How many times do I have to remind you?”

Harry quickly adjusts his posture, straightening his back despite his bodies discomfort.

“You’re right, sir. I’m so sorry.”

“Just another thing you need to work on.”

“Couldn’t agree more, Mr. Cardone.”

The elevator comes to a halt, and the doors open to let the two men out and into the room. Harry hesitantly walks inside like he always does, unsure of what Mr. Cardone wants him to do this occasion. But Harry doesn’t have to wait long till he finds out.

“I want you to stand in the middle of the living room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry shuffles his legs into the center of the room and waits for his next instruction.

“Take off your shit.”

Tugging at the buttons, Harry pulls off the black shirt that was draped loosely around his torso. Standing half naked, Mr. Cardone inches forward to him from the elevator doors where he’d been watching, causing goosebumps to sprout across Harry’s skin. As the man is hardly an inch away from his body, he reaches out and starts pinching on Harry’s tender hips.

“Tsk tsk tsk, Harry. This is why I got you a trainer. Still too chubby for my liking.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

“You said that last time. Now you’ve earned yourself a punishment.”

Harry involuntarily shivers at the word ‘punishment’ that slithers poisonously from Mr. Cardone’s lips, filled with a malicious intent that Harry’s all too accustomed to.

“Get down on all fours.”

Shifting down on his hands and knees, Harry prays for it all to be over with soon, as Mr. Cardone’s voice rips through the room with the sharpness of a machete, though it never becomes a yell. Laced with venom as his words move with precision like that of a snake, they silently hunt their prey. And because of the unperturbed air about, as if Mr. Cardone were simply talking to Harry about their meal, they’re twice as deadly when they hit their mark.

“You’ve been bad, Harry.”

It begins, and Harry can do nothing but wait for the worst of it. Above him, Mr. Cardone starts pacing around the boy on the floor, and then halts in front of Harry’s head, looming over him ominously.

“You should be begging for my cum, you fucking slag.”

He observes with satisfaction as Harry withers away in front him, and strikes again with a craving for blood.

“Tell me…do you understand why you’re being punished?”

“Yes…sir.”

“Louder.”

“Yes, sir!”

The man smirks, his eyes completely black.

“You’re disgusting. Look at you on your hands and knees, waiting for it. Fucking filthy. You’re getting ten whips, and you’re not to see those friends of yours until I deem otherwise. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember, Harry. You’re incredibly lucky to be with me. I’m the best you’ll ever have, and don’t forget that.”

The older man’s words are a bomb against the army that Louis’ opinions have created. Harry accepts his words, and knows them to be true. Louis’ were wonderful to consider, but this is Harry’s life. This is who Harry is. While in the moment it was nice to play pretend, being bent down on the floor is a major wake-up call. Mr. Cardone is right…Harry’s disgusting.

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

“Good.”

Harry focuses his eyes on the grey tiled floor that spans under him, as he hears the undoing of a buckle. He doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s a belt. He doesn’t need to turn around to know what’s coming next.

* * * *

After leaving the hotel room in fragments, Harry makes his way back to his flat, entering the building and walking carefully up the four flights of stairs. However, while he tries to pull out his keys as quickly as possible, the door across from him opens up, and Niall is stepping out in the hallway.

“Harry?”

“Oh, hey Niall.”

Harry tries not to notice the way Niall’s face is watching him intently. Harry tries not to notice the epic look of worry that plasters his expression. But the lad steps closer into Harry’s vicinity, and Harry foolishly looks up to meet his gaze. Peering timidly into Niall’s irises, Harry’s frenzied nerves are soothed, as they feel the other lad’s summer sky color wrap them up in a tranquil blue blanket of friendship. They’re so comforting, and inviting, and Harry’s easily being persuaded to give away all his secrets.

“Harry, are you alright?”

“Niall…I’m…I’m okay.”

“You sure? I know I’m not Louis, but you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah, thank you though.”

When Harry thinks Niall is going to step away, he steps closer, laying his hand reassuringly on Harry’s shoulder as he talks to him again.

“I mean it, Harry. I’m here if you need me.”

“That really means a lot, mate.”

Niall gives a final smile that is tainted by doubt, but Harry grins back as if nothing is so apparently wrong, and then enters into his flat. Once the door is closed behind him though, everything that he had been trying to keep sewn together, unravels apart. Falling to the floor, his back pressed up against the door, Harry sobs uncontrollably. And even though Mr. Cardone’s words are the most recent ones he’s heard, there’s another voice that resonates like a prayer in his mind _. “It sounds to me like the people you’ve allowed to be a part of your life, don’t deserve even a fraction of a minute of it.”_ As they repeat over and over, Harry calls out to fate and destiny, asking them why that can’t be true? Why can’t Harry be deserving of love? Why can’t Harry be as special as Louis argues he is? Louis’ beliefs ring in Harry’s mind like the most hopeful of gospels, and Harry wants to proclaim them as his new religion. But when his hands reach out into the vast emptiness of his flat to grab them, to grab Louis, there’s only a shard of a memory to clutch onto.

* * * *

**Sunday**

**Are you okay? Niall said he saw you and mentioned you looked upset.**

The text is received at eleven in the afternoon. Harry is still lying on the couch where he fell asleep yesterday, only having moved once last night to call his boss and say he was sick. His body is unbearably soar from where he’d been whipped, and even though Mr. Cardone had told Harry to ice the wounds, and bandage them up before he left yesterday, they still feel freshly made.

**_Yeah, I’m fine! Just a silly argument!_ **

**Do you want to talk about it?**

**_Not today, but thanks!_ **

**How about tomorrow?**

**_Louis…_ **

**I know you’re trying to say you’re fine, when you’re really not. So you’re going to have to talk to me one of these days, it’s just a matter of which one.**

**_Fine…Wednesday? I have work tonight, and I’m seeing my trainer on Tuesday._ **

**Why not tomorrow?**

**_Too soon._ **

**Fine. Wednesday. See you then.**

**_See you then._ **

* * * *

**Wednesday**

As the rain pelts against his pale face, splashing against his skin as each droplet lands, Harry feels faint. Why did he agree to meet up? Why did he agree to talk about this? How is he going to be able to lie when Louis will be staring right at him? This is by far the dumbest decision Harry is making, and he wants to turn around. He wants to go back home. However, his legs are traitors, because they continue on, continuing on towards the bar and grille that Louis wants to meet at, and Harry is just not okay.

It takes a number of deep breathing exercises for Harry to surmount the anxiety swelling up inside of him, but eventually with shaking hands, he grips the handle and opens the door. Once inside, the dimly lit restaurant comes alive with loud chatter and music, and Harry looks nervously around for the one person he came for.

“You came.”

Following the voice, Harry turns to find Louis standing closely behind him, smiling comfortingly at Harry like he’s truly delighted to see the younger boy show up, and it nearly sends Harry back outside and running home again.  _Why would he be happy to see me?_  Harry thinks suspiciously.

“Yeah, somehow.”

Louis let’s out a bark of a laugh, and then motions for Harry to follow him to a booth. Their waitress comes by soon after to take their drinks and orders, which then leaves Harry feeling awkward as the tension stirs between them.

“Harry?”

“Mhmm?”

“Are you…are you scared of me?”

Harry’s mouth physically drops open in such shock.

“What? No!”

“I mean it’s a reasonable question. You don’t tell me what’s going on when something is clearly bothering you, and you’re looking at me like I’ve eaten the devil.”

“I…I…”

Leaning forward, the older boy covers half the table with his upper torso, his face now only a few inches away from Harry’s.

“Harry, you’re safe with me. I won’t hurt you. I won’t judge you. I promise. You can tell me whatever it is that is going on, I’m sure I’ve dealt with worse. And I’m not saying that to compete in who’s had a shittier time, I’m saying that because I have a better chance at understanding what it is you’re going through than most others. So please, trust me.”

Trust? Louis wants Harry to trust him? And does he…does Harry trust Louis? In the corner of his mind Harry knows there’s always been some unexplainable part of him that’s been drawn to Louis. Ever since he laid eyes on the image, he was sucked in, but why? Why does he feel that at all? And what does it mean? Does it mean more than Harry wanting to be friends with Louis? Does it mean that Harry sees Louis more than he’s seen anyone else? He’s not sure.

There are hints, flashes of these feelings, but then they leave almost as if they haven’t fully ignited. But what if they need just one more spark to catch flame? What if one more look from Louis’ destructive eyes could set Harry’s whole world in an inescapable inferno? So back to the question at hand…does Harry trust Louis? Does he trust Louis to uphold his promises? Does he trust Louis to be there when he needs him? Does he trust Louis to not burn him when he has the chance and power to do so?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay…I trust you.”

Louis’ mouth agape, he’s gazing his ocean eyes at Harry like something colossal has just occurred, and Harry for a fleeting moment wants to press his lips against Louis’. To say the atmosphere encasing the two boys’ changes drastically, would be an understatement. Slowly, Louis closes his mouth and leans back against the booth, and then clears his throat. Slowly, Harry clears his mind, waiting patiently for Louis to take the reins. Slowly, something shifts around them, and neither are sure what to do about that.

“So tell me...about the guy you’re seeing.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Does he hurt you?”

Harry looks down at the table, and then scolds himself for not being confident, so he raises his focus back up to Louis with as much courage as he can muster.

“It’s not…it’s not like that.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Have you ever heard of Doms and Subs?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I mean, yeah…bits here and there.”

“Well, he’s into that. And so yes…the answer to your question is yes, but it’s within reason.”

“Because he’s your Dom?”

“If you don’t know much about that kind of thing, you’re not going to understand.”

“Okay…fair point. Uhm…do you want to ask me a question? Since I asked one of you?”

“You mean…like about anything?”

“Yeah, sure. Anything.”

“Tell me more about you and Zayn. The last thing you told me was about finding the picture, what really happened after that?”

Louis’ expression shows that he’s not entirely keen on the idea of telling Harry more about that particular situation, but he clears his throat and begins anyways.

“Right…so I went over to his place afterwards.”

“After what?”

“After I confronted him at the office. I was pretty harsh when I first spoke to him at work, I was just caught off guard when I saw the drawing. But I went home afterwards and stuff started to make sense, like all the little things we did with each other that I couldn’t imagine with someone else. I wasn’t just friendly with him, I was flirty. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t had gay experiences, I just hadn’t seen that one coming.”

“So you went to his place?”

“I went to his place, and we talked. That’s all we did, for hours. One of the best nights I had had in a while, back then. I was going through a lot of other issues, and Zayn just…he just always made things better. Like it was worth going through the mud, because at the end I got to him.”

“What did you love about him?”

“He was so creative. His mind was always thinking and imaging little wonders, and he loved to share his passion with those around him. He used them for good, like drawing pictures for those who needed to be cheered up, or what have you. And he wasn’t a super outgoing person, but if you talked to him about art, he just reveled in it. He was very perceptive, and he just…he never saw me as a bad person even after everything I had done. There was all this darkness around me, but he just came through like a lighthouse, helping me to shore.”

“That’s very poetic.”

“He deserves to be talked about as such.”

“You know…it’s very clear you’re still in love with Zayn. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re here sitting with me, and not back at home cuddled up to him.”

Louis looks nervous, and that’s a side of him Harry hasn’t seen before.

“How about this? I’ll tell you, when you tell me.”

Stumped, Harry cocks his head to the side and asks for clarification.

“Tell you what?”

“What’s really going on with you and ‘Mr. Dom’…”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Deal.”

The two shake their hands in the center of the table, and Harry is sure he’s just signed over his life somehow.

* * * *

**Thursday**

“Thanks for coming in today, Harry.”

“No problem, Roger. I’m always good to pick up a few extra shifts.”

“Maybe we can arrange that. Do Thursdays always work for you?”

“Yeah, always.”

“Okay, great. Well I’ll make some adjustments to the schedule for next week, you just go on ahead and bartend.”

“Sounds good.”

Harry was called in to cover Perrie’s shift for the night, since apparently she’s become ill, but it’s not a problem for Harry. He’s been wanting to spend his time more productively, and taking another shift shouldn’t impact him and Mr. Cardone right this second, so there’s nothing to fear in that department. However, Harry can’t help but to fret that taking on more shifts might turn out to be a bad idea in the long run, but…oh well.  _Don’t worry, this will be fine,_ he says to calm himself of the minor fear that comes forth.

Of course, just as Harry says this won’t be a problem and Thursday’s are consistently free, he feels a vibration in his pocket. Someone’s trying to call him, and there’s only one person he can think of at ten o’clock at night, that would need his attention. Harry rapidly pulls his device out, and answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Harry…I’m on my way to pick you up, be there in thirty.”

His heart is hammering against his chest, and Harry hates the way he diminishes whenever he tries to confront the older man.

“Mr. Cardone I can’t. I was called into work tonight to cover another girl’s shift.”

“Can’t?”

“I can’t, not until at least one in the morning, when we close the bar for the night.”

“I am not liking this new behavior on you Harry. Since you’ve gotten those new friends you’ve been extremely defiant towards me.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“I’ll leave you to your obligations for tonight, but know that there will be consequences. See you Saturday.”

And if that didn’t already leave a raging tornado to run rampant in his mind of all the things that could mean, the next text he receives is surely the end of him.

**Louis:  
Let’s meet up tomorrow! Miss you :)**

* * * *

**Friday**

Sleep left Harry calmly in the morning, and though he felt truly saddened by her loss, Harry knew he’d see her again. So with a bittersweet, but not final goodbye, he climbs out of bed and dresses himself in joggers. Despite his body’s plea to stay on the couch all day, Harry ignores it and throw’s on his running shoes. All week he has felt boxed within his body, and each passing moment was adding to the stress he’s been carrying. He needs to set it free, he needs to let it go, and running is the surest way to achieve that.

* * * *

**Saturday**

“Harry, what do you want out of this?”

The question raises curiosity within Harry’s mind as it enters into his ears. They’re sitting in another restaurant, waiting casually for their food to be brought out to them.

“What do you mean, sir?”

Mr. Cardone raises an eyebrow to express his own questioning, and then leans forward to look at Harry more intensely.

“What do you want out of disappointing me? Lying to me? Remind me again what the punishment was that I gave you last week?”

Harry swallows.

“I wasn’t allowed to see my friends.”

“Exactly…and did you?”

“I…”

“I know you did. So again…what do you want out of this? Are you trying to get a reaction out of me?”

“What…no, sir.”

“Well, it sure as hell seems like it.”

“I’m not, I promise.”

“Then stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Seeing them.”

“Why? Why is that what you want?”

“Because you’re changing, and it’s unbecoming. You’re moody, you talk back, you don’t ever look at me with respect anymore. I’m not quite sure how else to handle this situation other than taking away the one thing that’s caused this.”

“I want to keep my friends.”

“That’s no longer an option.”

Harry Styles used to be a lonely pond hidden away in the darkest forest of the earth, but then Louis Tomlinson showed up; a beautiful angel with too much curiosity. Louis walked over to Harry, gazing at him with bright eyes as he saw completely through Harry’s murky waters, and to his soul. And then recklessly, Louis touched a finger to Harry’s flat surface, causing a ripple effect to wave from his hand and raise over Harry. Since that defining moment, Harry’s been changed, and even if Mr. Cardone were to find Louis in the forest and take him away, the ripples would continue because they no longer can be stopped. The change has already begun; it’s already taken root.

“I understand, sir.”

But Harry didn’t understand, and for the first time since Mr. Cardone has been in Harry’s life, Harry was truly questioning everything about him.

* * * *

**Sunday**

_“How dare you act so disobediently? You’re a fucking pet. I own you.”_

Shaking from the memory of Mr. Cardone’s words that have slid their way into Harry’s dream, Harry startles awake and surges forward on his bed, panting from the fear that had taken hold of him. The older man had been extra rough in expressing his displeasure with Harry’s actions as of late, and Harry had just made it back to his apartment yesterday, before he passed out from the pain. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good day.

* * * *

“Feeling any better, Harry?”

“Hmm?”

Perrie looks up concernedly to Harry, as she helps him button up his black vest, that lays over his white shirt.

“You know…since you missed last night and the other day, too.”

“Oh right, right. Yeah, definitely better.”

“Good! Roger won’t admit it but he was worried too, and Mr. Nice Eyes was absolutely gutted.”

“Mr. Nice Eyes was here?”

“Oh yeah! Came in last night, said you hadn’t texted him back and he just wanted to know if you were alright. That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, that is.”

Finishing his last button, Perrie looks up gleefully at Harry, and then gives him a wink before walking out of the back room. Leaving Harry to ponder over her odd reaction, and information about Louis.

* * * *

“I’ll have a Whiskey Sour, mate.”

Shifting his head to the sound of the Irish accented voice, Harry looks across the bar to see Niall and Liam grinning widely at him.

“Aye! What are you two doing here?”

Liam speaks out to Harry animatedly.

“We were just in the neighborhood!”

“Just in the neighborhood?”

Liam maintains his grins as he counters back.

“Yeah, we were walking around and thought we would stop by.”

“Okay, you suck at lying. Come on, what’s the real reason you two are here?”

The other two laugh as Harry catches on, but then Niall’s smile falters just a fraction of second, letting Harry know there’s something serious to be said.

“We just were checking up on you. Louis said he hadn’t heard or seen you, and he didn’t want to come off creepy by coming in two nights in a row, so we were nominated to go next.”

“Wow, ‘m sorry. Didn’t mean to cause so much trouble for him.”

Niall replies again afterwards.

“Look Harry…Louis doesn’t let people into his life easily. I don’t know if it’s because you found that drawing that Louis’ guard wasn’t as stern for you, but whatever the reason, he’s chosen to let you in. That hasn’t happened for three years and the last time was with us. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, I just want to put it in perspective for you. I know you guys are still newly friends, but just know that he really cares about you, and that’s not a common occurrence.”

“He really cares about me?”

“Yeah, and he’s been driving us up a wall because he thinks you’re ignoring him. So if you could text him and let him know you’re okay, that would be really appreciated.”

“Okay, yeah…I can do that.”

Liam grins amiably and then responds back to Harry.

“Cool. We’re going to hang out a bit to see some people we know, but maybe if you want, we can wait around, and then walk with you home? We’re all going the same way anyways.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Us, too.”

There’s a stillness between the three boys as an unspoken agreement is confirmed, signed with understanding eyes and approving smiles.

* * * *

**_I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. Forgive me?_ **

The first thing Harry does when he steps foot into his flat is pull out his phone and text Louis. Ever since Liam and Niall made the comment, it’s been eating him up that he’s made Louis feel a certain way, but he was too busy with work and talking to the lads to get a chance to text anything earlier.

**Don’t know if you deserve my forgiveness**

**_I definitely don’t deserve it, but if I buy you lunch would that help?_ **

**Need more than that**

**_Lunch and desert?_ **

**Bit more**

**_Lunch, desert, and I’ll throw in lots of begging!_ **

**You’ve got yourself a deal!**

**_Tomorrow sound good?_ **

**Tomorrow sounds perfect! :)**

**_Great! :)_ **

* * * *

**Monday**

“No lying…that’s the deal.”

Louis is munching on fries while talking to Harry, not waiting a minute to address the real issues at hand.

“I know that’s the deal.”

“So know that if you lie to me, I’m out. I’ll get up and I’ll walk home, because I’ve dealt with enough liars to know they never stop.”

“Fine, I got it.”

“Then I’m going to start. Why did you ignore me?”

“Louis…”

“Answer it, please.”

Harry lets out a stressed sigh before looking to the side and then back to Louis again.

“The guy I’m talking to, doesn’t want me hanging out with you anymore. I think he feels threatened.”

“Threatened? By me? How?”

“You and I spend a lot of time together, and he and I don’t. He said that since I’ve been hanging out with you, I’ve changed. Not you specifically, just you as in my new friends.”

Louis seems to be accepting Harry’s answer, as he listens closely to what Harry informs him.

“So he doesn’t know about me, as in Louis Tomlinson?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well why weren’t you at work?”

“He was just a little rough when he was punishing me, so I was too hurt to work.”

This time though, the look on Louis’ face is not that of a worried friend, but horrified. It takes Harry off guard, and he wonders why Louis is looking like that? Didn’t he say he wanted honesty? Harry knows that Louis doesn’t know much about Dom and Sub partners, but this reaction is a bit dramatic, no?

“Too hurt? Punishing you?”

“You told me not to lie.”

“And I’m glad you didn’t, but Harry…do you hear how that sounds?”

“I told you…it’s a Dom/Sub thing.”

“Harry it’s not…there’s no way.”

“No way? I thought you said you wouldn’t judge? I thought you said you wanted honesty?”

“I do!”

“Funny, cause it seems to me like you’re doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t.”

Hurt and ashamed, Harry shoves away from the table, and launches on his feet. How could Louis do that? Why would Louis do that? Especially after Harry had just recently told him he trusts him, solidifying Louis as place of safety for him. But no… apparently he was wrong. As Harry marches out of the restaurant, he turns his head one last time to see a very dumbfounded Louis, being left behind. There’s immeasurable guilt already raging in his head, telling him he’s being extreme, but the more steps Harry takes away, the harder it is turn back around.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to upload the rest of it today. I couldn't wait :)

**Wednesday**

“Harry, love. Why are you and Gem fighting?”

Harry’s Mum was distraught when Harry answered her call this afternoon. He knew she’d be upset, but he didn’t think it’d be because of the Gemma argument he’s having. It’s been a while since they’ve talked, and he’s typically better than that. He loves his Mum to bits, he’s just been ridiculously preoccupied lately.

“Mum, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why…what are you doing?”

“Nothing…just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. I’ll talk about something else. How’s work going?”

“It’s going…”

His Mum doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, and Harry knows that she’s trying to express her irritation at his attitude, but Harry can’t change how he’s feeling at the moment. A lot of shit is happening, and it’s just building up inside of him.

“Clearly something is bothering you, and I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, so I’ll let you go. But I’m calling again tomorrow, and maybe tomorrow you’ll want to discuss it more?”

“Maybe.”

“Right. Well, talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

When Harry lets the phone drop onto the coffee table in his living room, he plummets his body back onto the couch and allows himself to cry. It’s not one of his finer moments, but he just needs to release some of the hurt that he’s been holding on to. There’s just too much of it.

* * * *

**I’m sorry**

Three in the morning is not a time of day Harry is accustomed to. Laying in his bed, eyes unable to close, he observes the way the dark of the sky pours into his flat, drenching the room in its gloomy colors. When his phone vibrates from his night stand, he huffs out a sigh, rolling onto his side to grab his device and see the notification. It’s from Gemma.

**_Me too._ **

**Want to get lunch tomorrow? My treat**

**_Sure, I’ll call you when I’m up._ **

**Sounds good, loser. See you tomorrow**

Though Harry feels better to be mending his argument with his sister, he’s also saddened that the text is not from the person he was hoping it to be. At that thought, Harry startles, and then slowly begins to realize his affection towards Louis. Shaking his head with disbelief, Harry pulls on his hair, and tries to will himself to not feel the way he does.  _Stop thinking about him so much. Stop worrying about him so much. You don’t deserve him anyways._

Harry just needs to clear out his thoughts, he needs to remember that Louis is only a friend, and treat him as such. That’s where all the confusion and issues are coming from, because Harry can’t keep Louis in the lane he belongs. And besides, if Harry were to accept that maybe there are some abnormal feelings developing, he needs to remind himself that Louis’ in love with someone else. He’d never be interested in Harry… not in the slightest. So there’s absolutely no point in dwelling on it. None at all.

* * * *

**Thursday**

“Mum is worried about you, you know.”

“I know she is.”

Gemma sits across from Harry, her long blonde hair falling well past her shoulders, her caring eyes burning holes in Harry’s mind. They’re eating at a quaint café, and the first thing they did when they saw each other was give one another a hug. They may get annoyed more often than not, but they still love each other, and that’s the most important thing. Their Mum would be proud.

“I know you’re not planning to tell her anything anytime soon, but tell me. I’m not going to freak out this time, I promise. I’m all ears.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, well…Mr. Cardone hasn’t been too happy with me recently because I’ve made some new friends.”

“You’ve made friends?”

“Don’t make it sound weird.”

“Sorry, ‘m not trying to. I‘m excited for you.”

“Right, well…yes, I have. Two of them live in my building, and the other one is their friend. And that friend, Louis, he and I get on really well, and Mr. Cardone doesn’t like that I spend a lot of time with him.”

“Why do you hang out with Louis more than the others?”

“He’s erm…like he’s really great. I don’t know how else to say it, but he’s fun to be around, and he genuinely cares about me.”

“Do you care about him?”

“Yeah…”

Gemma squints her eyes like she’s trying to look for something Harry’s not showing.

“I’m not asking if you care about him Harry, I’m asking if you  _care_  about him. Like, do you like him? More than friends?”

“I mean…he’s in love with someone else.”

“Not what I asked.”

“I guess…I guess I do. I don’t know what to do, I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Felt what?”

“Like… the moment we met there was this feeling that swallowed me whole, and ever since then it’s been slowly seeping into my system. It’s like…like I can’t stop thinking about him. And I erm, trust him a lot, without really any reason to.”

“The moment you met? You felt that the moment you met?”

“No, the moment we met I felt like I was catapulted up to the sky, and then all too fast I was crashing back down to earth, but even though I was heading towards my inevitable death, I was completely okay with it because I had gotten to see his eyes. Something fierce happened, and I don’t know how to explain it better than that.”

“Harry…is Louis…is Louis your soulmate?”

“What?”

“Did you spark with him?”

“No.”

“It sounds an awful lot like you did.”

“Soulmate spark? Me? No way…”

“Stop being so melodramatic, it’s not cute.”

“But Gem, there’s no way.”

“How?”

And well, she was right…how? How is there no way Harry could have a soulmate? How is there no way Harry sparked with Louis? He has just as much of a chance to meet his soulmate as Gemma does and Niall, and Liam, and everyone on this damn earth, so why, in Harry’s mind, can it not be him?

“I…I…”

“Sure it’s not super common, but it happens enough. Did you ask him if he felt the same thing?”

“Yes… and he asked me ‘felt what’, so there’s your answer. If he didn’t feel it, it didn’t happen.”

“Whatever, it’s not the point. The point is that you like Louis, so why are you wasting any of your time still with that Mr. Cardone?”

“I can’t leave him yet. And I especially can’t leave him because of some unexplainable feelings I have for Louis that are never going to be reciprocated.”

Gemma leans forward, her expression more accusing, and completely determined to get Harry to see her point of view.

“Don’t you at least think it’s worth a shot?”

“What is?”

“Louis? Don’t you think it’s worth a shot to try with him and see where it goes?”

“He would never.”

“And you don’t know that! So if it were me, I’d try and see what happens. If it doesn’t end well, you still have Mr. Saggy Balls to fall back on, though I’ll never understand why.”

Harry giggles, and then shakes his head at her nonsense, which to cracks a smile on her face.

“You’re absolutely bonkers, Gem.”

“But I’ve got a good idea, and you know it.”

He grins at her with admiration, and then sighs. Of course Harry knows it, but can he really do what she suggests? Can he really attempt to see if Louis would feel the same way back? Guess there’s only one way to find out but first, he needs to make some apologies.

* * * *

**Friday**

**_I have work till 11 tonight, but I’m not doing anything afterward. Do you maybe want to meet up somewhere and talk?_ **

After seeing Gemma and working last night, Harry had not had a chance to text Louis, and by the time he made it home he was too tired to think of anything to say. However, waking up this morning, Harry is plenty rested, and oddly motivated to talk to Louis again. After a few minutes of agreeing on whether his text is fine or not, he sends it, and waits impatiently for a reply. Thankfully, it takes mere seconds for Louis to answer.

**Sure. I’ll meet you at work.**

**_Great._ **

The only problem now is for Harry to figure out what exactly it is he wants to talk to Louis about. Obviously he wants to address what happened at the restaurant, but he has to think of how he wants to say it. And he has to think about what he wants the overall outcome of tonight’s discussion to be. Does he want to remain friends? Does he want something more? Are there even any other options he hasn’t covered? Well there is one, but not having Louis in his life at all is not a choice, so it’s not worth acknowledging. Harry wants Louis in his life, it’s just a matter of how.

* * * *

Leaving the bar behind, Harry walks from the door towards Louis by the streetlamp, trying to smile but finding it hard to do so.

“Thanks for meeting me, Lou.”

“No, you don’t have to thank me for coming. I wanted too. Harry, I’m really sorry about how things ended up the other day. You were right, you were being honest with me and I was stomping all over that trust. Please, forgive me.”

Standing under the light, in front of Louis now, Harry can see the purple tinted bags under Louis’ eyes implying he’s been deprived of sleep. Harry can see the red rim to Louis’ cerulean eyelids that suggest he’s been crying recently. Harry can see the dry cracks to his once luscious peach lips, and Harry all at once loses his breath. Was it him? Was Harry the cause for those changes? The answer to that question alone nibbles on Harry’s heart, torturing him until it ingests him whole.

“Louis, stop. It was me. I didn’t even give you a chance before I stormed out.”

“I would have done the same thing, but look, let’s just walk. It’s a nice night and we both have a lot to say, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Side by side, they start walking down cracked sidewalks, passed loud bars and empty houses. The night sky dances overhead, and they pace in silence, tempting the waters until the first person makes the jump and says something. After a minute, it’s Louis who dives in head first.

“Harry…I don’t mean to bring this up again, but I have a friend that I want you to meet. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but she’s into that Dom thing that you are, too. She said she’d love to talk to you about it, if you wanted. I don’t have to be there, it’s just so that you two can talk about the things I clearly don’t understand.”

“They’re a friend of yours?”

“Yes, and they’re amazing. I trust this person with my whole life, and I know they would never do anything to intentionally hurt your feelings or judge you.”

It’s not what Harry was expecting, not by a long shot, but the idea isn’t all that terrible to him. To meet this person and talk to them about some Dom/Sub stuff that they are both a part of, that’s not so bad. Harry’s sure Louis wants him to do it, just so Louis can feel better about the things Harry confides in him, but that’s okay. And for Harry, it would be interesting to hear from another perspective how they work with their partner.

“Well…alright. Alright, I’ll talk to them.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Great, I’ll tell them now and contact you when they want to meet up!”

Harry runs his fingers through his hair to fix the strands that have fallen out, when he smiles at Louis who looks beyond ecstatic for Harry’s agreement to the idea. It can’t be so bad, right? But Harry will worry about that when the time comes, in this moment, all he wants to do is keep talking with Louis.

“Okay, but do you mind if I change the subject, and we talk about something else right now?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Cool. So…dogs or cats?”

Giggles instantly bubble around the two boys from Louis’ lips, lightening the heavy air that had laid around them. Laughingly, Louis questions Harry’s original ask.

“What?”

“Answer, Lou. Dogs or cats?”

“I’m a dog person, meself.”

“Shame, I prefer a good pussy.”

Louis scoffs at Harry’s comment and then shoves him in the arm, as Harry chuckles.

“Harold! Such language!”

“Please, you curse all the time!”

“That is not fucking true.”

Harry snorts at Louis clearly messing with him, and shakes his head with continued laughter.

“You’re ridiculous. Alright, your turn to ask something.”

“Mine? Right, then…how old were you when you realized your sexuality?”

“My sexuality? Lou, I’m straight…”

Pretending to look offended, Harry gives Louis a stern look, but the boy waves him off.

“Oh come off it, you say you’re seeing a guy all the time.”

“Drats, you’re too smart for me.”

Louis rolls his eyes, and then Harry answers.

“Erm, it was a while for me. I mean, like I always felt it there in the back of my mind that I was different. I tried to ignore it for a long time, but can’t ignore something forever. The town I grew up in was too small, but when I got to Uni, everything changed. I didn’t feel like the only one anymore, and I didn’t feel like I was judged for the way I was. I told my Mum at eighteen, so I guess that’s when I finally accepted it.”

“Late bloomer.”

“You could say that. How about you?”

“I was younger when I realized, but I had the opposite situation. My friends were really supportive of me, but my family had a hard time with it. At fourteen I told everyone that mattered to me that I liked boys too, but it took years before I was really allowed to talk about it. My sisters weren’t bothered by it, mostly my Step-Dad, which lead to my Mum, as well. And for a while, I told everyone I was bisexual, and I think that gave my parents hope that I would still end up with girl in the end. I’d hook up with guys a lot, but I only dated girls. It wasn’t until I was twenty-four that I finally understood that having a wife wasn’t something I wanted, nor was dating a girl at all.”

“Sorry, Lou.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, just how life panned out, I guess.”

The two turn down a street, heading towards an unmarked location, and Harry feels like the world around them has shifted on its axis. Louis trots beside him, and the desire to know everything there is to know about the older boy radiates within himself. He wants to understand what makes Louis happy. He wants to comprehend what makes Louis upset. He wants to meet all of Louis demons, and challenge head-on them until they surrender and leave. Harry wants to sleep beside Louis at night, and still be beside him when he opens his eyes in the morning. Harry wants to give all of himself, and take all of Louis in return, so that the two boys are left with nothing but each another inside themselves, but Harry can’t. He can’t give his heart, nor can he take Louis’, and it’s all because Louis belongs to someone else.

But if Louis didn’t love Zayn, what would Harry do? Would Harry leave Mr. Cardone...yes. No doubt about it, if there was a chance he could be with the wondrous boy, he’d leave Mr. Cardone for sure. Would Harry date Louis, and be open to being his boyfriend? Well, that would be hard, but Harry would try. He’d try anything for Louis. Would Harry fall in love? And for the first time in the existence of Harry’s life, he thinks he could consider being in love. If it meant he could be in love with Louis. But again, Zayn. Fucking Zayn. Always Zayn. Zayn. But if there’s Zayn, then why does Louis apparently care so damn much about Harry?

“Hey, Lou?”

“Hmm?”

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did it upset you when I mentioned that my partner punished me?”

“You want to ask that one? Well, alright. Aside from the fact that no one should be getting hit by their significant others, I also didn’t want to hear about you specifically, getting hurt.”

“Why?”

“Because I…I don’t want to think about you getting hurt, Harry.”

“But why?”

“Because...because…”

Louis abruptly stops walking, and Harry pauses mid-stride to stay in place with him. The older boy had been looking down at the ground, but then, suddenly he jerks his head up to stare into Harry’s eyes, and it’s completely overwhelming. Without another second passing, Louis starts talking again, much faster than previously that it’s almost all jumbled.

“I care about you, okay? I care about you a lot, Harry, and I don’t want to hear about someone physically taking a hand to you because that makes my stomach churn. Even if you say it’s because of some kink you’re both into, I can’t stop how it makes me feel.”

System Malfunctioning. Abort. Abort. Harry tries to think of something logical to say. Harry tries to think of something even worth saying, but everything is fried. And whether due to his organs in disrepair, or due to an overstimulation of emotions, Harry’s not sure, but the next thing he feels his body do is lean forward to Louis, searing his own mouth firmly against Louis’ lips, and holy shit he’s ruined it. He’s ruined everything.

Except…except that Louis’ body stills at the sudden contact, but then…then he’s leaning in to it. Then he’s moving along with it. Then he’s the one leading it, and fuck Harry can’t handle this shit right now. This is too much. This is all too much. So with the little power Harry has left within himself, he yanks his head bank and gasps for air that had been previously sucked out of his lungs.

“Fuck, Lou. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh my god. I have to go, I have to go….”

Harry starts turning around but then his hand is caught by Louis’, and he’s whipped around to face the flabbergasted boy again.

“Don’t. Go. Let’s talk about this, yeah?”

“Talk? What is there to talk about? Louis…you’re in love with someone else, and me? I’m with someone. If there was a world record for dumbest decision made, that one would have been it. I’m sorry.”

“Are you leaving me again?”

“Not for good. I still want to see you, and be friends, and hang out. But right now, yes. Right now, I need to go home and clear my head.”

Without looking back, Harry steers his feet in the direction of his flat, and heads home. And the worst part isn’t that he’s walking away from the one person who makes everything seem better. The worst part isn’t that he never looked back around because he knows if he had, he wouldn’t be able to leave. The worst part isn’t that he kissed Louis at all. The worst part, is that as he’s walking away, he can hear Louis whisper his name. And because of the deafening silence that has blanketed the city, the whisper of his name with that northern accent is loud enough to fly from Louis’ lips and into Harry’s heart, detonating with all the devastated emotions it possesses. Which unfortunately, is a lot.

* * * *

**Saturday**

Plates are being set down, drinks are being sipped, words are being spoken, but Harry is hardly aware. In his head, he hears Louis say his name over and over and over again, and each time it tangles itself within the web of his mind, he wants to disappear. Is this what it feels like to be in love? Because if it is, he wants no part of it. Harry is sufficiently broken, and he has no idea what to do.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

Mr. Cardone sits across from Harry with a look of uncertainty, and Harry knows he’s most definitely not pleased with Harry’s behavior, but he can’t find it within himself to care.

“Something troubling you?”

“Just didn’t sleep well.”

Nodding his head once, Mr. Cardone raises his finger to call the waiter over, and asks him if their food can be boxed and to receive the check. Harry’s actually content about this happening, because for once, he’s not hungry enough to eat.

“Let’s head to the hotel room, and then you can go home.”

Which…what? Though Harry’s been previously numb to all else, this… this stirs something. Harry’s not in a good state of mind, and yet, he’s still expected to perform? Because of course, it’s always about Mr. Cardone and his wants and needs. Of course, Harry is the pet, carrying out the orders his master gives him. Of course, no one gives a flying fuck about how Harry fucking feels. Of. Fucking. Course.

* * * *

**Sunday**

On his way from the store and heading into his flat, Harry runs into Liam. Seeing him alone causes Harrys’ nerves to transform into the Titanic, waiting hopelessly to smash into the deadly iceberg and drown into freezing waters, but Liam smiles at Harry innocently, and it stalls the destruction for another minute at least. Befuddled, Harry grins back, and then walks up the stairs quietly alongside him. As they make it up to the fourth floor having not said a peep, Liam finally speaks to Harry, right as Harry steps towards his own flat.

“So uhm, Harry? Do you…do you maybe want to come over? Just to talk? I’m not on anyone’s side, I’m completely unbiased in this whole ordeal, but I figured you probably don’t have anyone to talk to that understands your issues with Louis like I might.”

“You’re not going to yell at me, and tell me how much of an idiot I am?”

“No. If it were Niall then yes, since Niall is overly protective of Louis. But me…no.”

“Erm, alright.”

Trailing behind Liam, Harry follows him inside to their flat, and then sits on the living room couch opposite from Liam, who immediately picks up where he left off.

“I’m going to be honest here, Louis hasn’t told us anything. We know he’s upset, and we know enough to know it’s with you, but Niall and I have no clue as to why.”

“You’re right, it’s because of me. He told me he cared about me, and I…I took advantage of him in the moment, and I kissed him. Which I know is wrong, I know he’s in love with someone else, and I’m seeing someone, so it’s even worse. I was just caught up.”

“Louis’ in love with someone?”

“Yeah…Zayn…”

Liam’s face is beyond puzzled, but Harry doesn’t want to waste time trying to figure out the reason for his odd expression, so he goes on to the next topic warily.

“So…Louis hasn’t said anything?”

“No, which is very strange for him because when he’s upset he tells Niall and me everything.”

“Wow, I feel like shit.”

“Look, Harry. I think…I think you and Louis have a lot of misunderstandings between you two, that need to be cleared up.”

“But Liam…even if we clear it up, at the end of the day there’s nothing I can do about it. If I admit to Louis that I like him, I can’t do anything about that.”

“You like Louis?”

Harry expresses a confused look in response to Liam, who appears just about as lost as him.

“Wait…I thought you knew…I thought that’s why you were talking about misunderstandings?”

“Oh…no? I was talking about other stuff.”

“I said I kissed him though…”

“Well, I thought you just did that cause you felt sorry for him. I didn’t know you actually like him. Harry, that’s…”

“Stupid, I know.”

Liam sighs loudly, and rubs his face into his palms.

“Harry, no. It just makes things a little more complicated because there’s clearly a big thing you don’t know, that you need to talk to Louis about.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t…I can’t tell you.”

“Liam...”

“No. You need to hear it from Louis. You need to hear it from him.”

“Well, what do I do?”

“Go find him.”

“And how do you suppose I do that?”

“It’s Saturday, he’s probably just finished his run and is hanging out at the park before heading home.”

“You really think that’s the best thing I should do right now?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Standing up off the couch, Harry tucks his phone into his pocket, and fixes his hair as he makes his way to the front door. The only thing that stops him for a moment, is the sound of Liam’s voice calling out.

“Don’t you want me to tell you which park?”

“Thanks, but I think I already know.”

* * * *

Closing in on the park that Harry and Louis had first met, Harry combs the area to find a soft, cinnamon fringe covered head. Scanning his eyes over, he finally discovers Louis a few feet from him, sitting on the edge of a bench with his back towards Harry. Timidly, Harry walks towards him, until the bench is inches away and Harry takes a seat at the other end.

Though there’s a whole seat apart from them, Harry feels too close, and shuts his eyes to regain control over his anxiety. At first, he’s unsure whether Louis knows it’s him whose sitting on the opposite end, but then he catches Louis’ moving his eyes to the side, and a tiny change in expression that says he’s aware of Harry’s presence. They both don’t move, and they both keep their focus trained forward, but Harry almost prefers it this way. For the things he wants to say, it would be a lot harder if he had to look Louis in the face.

Clearing his throat, Harry silently prays for his words to travel along with the breeze and into Louis’ ears. He prays that everything he’s about to say, is enough to provoke Louis to want to say more. He prays, that this is the right decision he’s making, and that in the end, all that he is doing is worth the effort.

“We made a deal…”

The first four words start out shaky, but Harry pauses to regain his confidence and stability, waiting to talk until he knows with certainty that he can go on. As his deep vibrato penetrates the air again, he sits up taller, and lets his feelings pour out of him effortlessly to Louis.

“We made a deal…I’ll tell you when you tell me. Well, I think it’s time we finally tell our secrets, but I can’t help feeling afraid that you’re not going to be able to handle mine. Which is funny, because I take it that’s the same thing you’re feeling towards me. But I’m sick of pretending that I’m something that I’m not. And I’m sick of pretending that our ghosts aren’t getting in the way. So I’m ready to tell you mine, it’s just whether you’re ready to tell me yours. I’m not expecting for your answer today, in fact, I’m not even asking for it. I’m just here to tell you that the balls in your court. When you’re ready to do something about that, come find me.”

Harry doesn’t look at him when he gets up to leave. Harry doesn’t even attempt to catch a glimpse of Louis’ reaction, but unlike the other night, Harry’s not heartbroken leaving him behind. In a change of events, Harry’s actually empowered.

* * * *

**Friday**

A week passes by filled with sorry eyes from Niall and Liam any time he passes them in the hallway, and unhelpful advice from Gemma. His Mum called a couple of times as well, but their conversations were short, Harry didn’t have much to say. He hasn’t heard anything from Louis, and that wasn’t so bad the first day as it was the second and then the third. Now Harry’s just depressed, and he’s starting to feel like maybe this is what he’s deserved all along.

* * * *

“Harry?”

Perrie calls out to Harry in the back room, where he’s decided to take a five minute break from the constant noise drumming in his head. She stands close to him, looking up with the same apologetic gaze everyone’s been conveying.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay, love?”

Is Harry okay? Does he look okay? No. Does he sound okay? No. Does he feel okay? No. So is he okay? Is he mentally and physically  _okay_? Is he ready to smile and talk and flirt and walk as if nothing in the entire universe is eating him alive? No. No, he’s not.

“Honestly? No.”

Perrie peers at him like she’s trying to sympathize through her expression, but Harry just feels uncomfortable under her watch.

“Why don’t you go home, Harry?”

“Because I’m working.”

“I’ve got it. Truly.”

“Perrie… Roger would kill me.”

“I already talked to him. And no offense, but you’re not much help here. I’d rather you be home, than be in my way.”

It hurts, but honestly, she has a point. Harry hasn’t done much at work but fix a few drinks and take a few breaks. He’s probably just making it harder for her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, love. We all have those days. Come here.”

Grabbing around his shoulders, she pulls Harry into a hug and then kisses him on his cheek.

“Now go home, and get some rest. You look like you need it.”

“Thank you.”

* * * *

**Saturday**

Waking up in the morning is a feat in and of itself, and Harry knows he can’t make it to lunch. Despite his best efforts to get out from under the covers, he physically can’t do it. He feels sick. His head is throbbing, his throat is soar, and his stomach is doing jumping jacks. So Harry does something that he’s never done before, he calls Mr. Cardone to cancel their plans.

“Harry? Why’re you calling?”

His tone is agitated, but Harry doesn’t waiver in his intentions of this call.

“I’m sick. I can’t make it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you serious?”

“I expect you there at noon.”

“I physically can’t get out of bed, sir.”

“Fine…but this is worth fifteen.”

“You’re punishing me for being sick?”

“I’m punishing you for cancelling lunch. I have to go, I expect to see you next Saturday.”

“Fine. See you then.”

When the call ends, Harry uses his last bit of energy to dial one more person’s phone number, until he succumbs to the slumber that’s yanking on his soul.

“Hello?”

“Gemma…I don’t feel well.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guess. His sister replies faster than Harry can breathe.

“On my way.”

And yeah…he really loves her.

* * * *

**Thursday**

_Louis’ running up ahead of Harry, but he’s always just a step out of reach. Harry tries harder, pushing himself harder, but when he extends his hand out to grip into Louis’ sweatshirt, the boy vanishes altogether, and Harry tumbles forward onto the ground._

At the feeling of falling engulfing Harry, he jumps up in bed, breathing heavily from his dream. When he looks at the clock, he notices he only got about a half hour of sleep, and rubs his eyes furiously with his hands. He hasn’t dreamed in a while, and this one was vivid. Was there possibly any meaning to it? Was it a metaphor for Harry trying to get Louis but never succeeding? Or was it really just Louis running too far ahead for Harry to ever catch?

Nearly a second week has come and gone, and Harry is feeling the effects of Louis’ disappearance like a bloody freight train crashing into him. He thought he could be stronger than this, but that was clearly silly thinking. Louis is the greatest thing that has ever come into his life, obviously his absence would be like a crater in Harry’s heart. Obviously his absence wouldn’t go unnoticed.

* * * *

**Friday**

The midnight sun burns orange against the black sky, leaving an odd tint to drape over the city. Harry is up, sleep having left him along with Louis, and he’s staring out his bedroom window with misery painting his face. On night’s like these, where he watches the world fall asleep from his window, he thinks about his past most. In the darkness of his room, Harry travels to the darkness of his mind, opening doors to memories he’s locked for a long time. It’s not healthy, opening these moments back up into his mind, to tarnish and taint the progress Harry’s gone through since then, but he can’t help it. He’s in pain, and for whatever reason, he wants more. He wants to feel worse. He wants to be worse. It’s the only comfort he can find.

_“No one will ever love you. No one will ever want to be with you.”_

As the memory escapes from their cage, stretching their limbs from being enclosed for so long, they eventually spread out, laying on top of Harry until they’re suffocating him with their words.

* * * *

**Saturday**

“You cancelled plans Harry, you know the punishment. Down on your knees.”

Harry bends down onto the floor, positioning his naked body on his hands and knees, as he grips the hotel carpet within his fingers.

“Repeat after me. I was a bad boy.”

“I was a bad boy.”

After Harry repeats the words, the first strike comes whipping to his arse, quick yet painful as it leaves a burning sensation to linger longer than the leather hit his skin. Harry does everything not to make noise.

“I’m just a stupid slut.”

“I’m just a stupid slut.”

The second strike is made, and Harry bites his bottom lip to keep him from screaming.

“No one wants me.”

“No one wants me.”

The third whip sears into his skin, forcing tears to dance down Harry’s face, pirouetting across his crimson cheeks. His body is shaking at this point, screaming at him to run away. But he can’t. Where is there to go?

“I won’t disrespect you anymore.”

“I won’t disrespect you anymore.”

As the fourth whip is made, Harry counts how many are left. Eleven. Eleven lashes are left till he’s done with his punishment, though Harry’s sure that won’t mean Mr. Cardone is done with him. Eleven lashes are left until he can control the shivering from the pain that fumes from his backside, making Harry feel like he’s burning alive. Eleven lashes are left until he can tend to his skin that he swears is being ripped off over and over and over again. Eleven lashes are left until he can stop screaming, and crying, and dying, while Mr. Cardone stands above him thriving. Eleven lashes are left. And the only thing Harry can do is close his eyelids to the destruction, and focus on the warmest entity he can locate within his brain. Which should come as no surprise that the warmest thing Harry thinks of, is Louis Tomlinson.

* * * *

One more step. One more step. Harry shuffles his feet, trying desperately to make it to his door, but the pain from his punishment is far exceeding anything else. He’s going to pass out, his eyes are seeing colors, he feels light headed, but he just needs to make it to his door. Just ten more steps. Nine. Eight. Seven. Fuck. Harry collapses to the ground, sprawled out in the hallway, wasting away on the dirty floor as he sarcastically thinks,  _a fitting end for a dirty whore._


	5. Chapter 5

**Monday**

There’s an incessant beeping that has found its way into Harry’s mind, interrupting his sleep as it breaks through his dreamlike trance. At first, Harry confuses the beeping as his alarm, but remembers that his alarm in the morning is a song not a sound. Stricken with fear by his own realization, Harry hurries to open his eyes, which scares him even more when he focuses on a stranger looming dangerously close over his body.

“The fuck?”

The man turns his head to the noise, and then cheers at Harry unexpectedly.

“Mr. Styles, you’re awake. Good, good! How are you feeling?”

Harry’s petrified, and he’s about to start screaming for help when he then catches sight of his surroundings. There’s a monitor next to him, he’s lying in a wide bed, and the person standing in front of him has a white coat on. Dammit he’s in the hospital.

“Erm, okay.”

“Keep your eyes open for me.”

Widening his eyelids, the doctor flashes a light between his pupils, and leans his body on Harry’s mattress.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Honestly, no.”

“A friend of yours found you passed out in the hallway of your flat, and called for an ambulance. You seem to have taken quite a beating, and so it’s logical you passed out from the extent of your pain. I’ve prescribed you morphine, and have already given you a large dosage to help keep you numb. We’ve also cleaned and bandaged up your wounds. Just so you know, some of them we needed to stitch.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“I’m going to be candid with you here Mr. Styles, if you were under the age of eighteen I’d have filed a report for abuse. However, you’re an adult, so this is in your hands. If you want to file a claim of domestic violence, I’d be happy to help you with the process.”

“Oh, it’s not, erm…like that. It’s like…like it’s a k-”

“I’m sure it’s something I don’t want to know. But if it is for uhm, sexual play, you should let the person know that they’re going to kill you at the rate that they’re going. I would maybe reconsider an alternative option to, ‘getting it on.’”

“Oh god, okay. Understood.”

“Good. Your friend is here still, the one that called for you. He’s waiting outside. Also, after another exam, you should be fine to go home. I suggest you take a week off from work to let the wounds heal, or it’ll take longer and you’ll pop your stitches. If you need a note for work, just let the nurse at the front desk know.”

“Alright, thanks.”

“Keep it safe, Mr. Styles.”

As the doctor walks out of the door, a recognizable blonde haired boy comes in. Harry’s instantly afraid of the conversation about to unfold as the two are left alone in the hospital room. Especially since Harry’s doped up on meds.

“Hi, Niall.”

“Glad you’re up.”

“Erm, thanks for bringing me in.”

Niall moves towards Harry, and takes a seat in one of the available chairs next to the bed.

“Thanks? I heard a loud bang and went in search of what it was, finding you just facedown there on the floor. God Harry…I thought you were dead.”

He’s distraught. Harry doesn’t have to look twice to see the way he’s remembering the moment of finding Harry, or hear him say it again with fear in his tone.

“Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be saying sorry to me. I did the right thing.”

“Not everyone would have done that.”

“Well, clearly not the person who did that to you.”

Harry’s cheeks flush red with shame, but Niall continues on unfazed.

“It’s none of my business, I get that, but Harry…have you seen what the back of you looks like? Cause it ain’t pretty.”

“Niall, please, I know. And I know you’re just trying to look out for me, but honestly, it’s the last thing I want to talk about right now.”

“Okay.”

It’s sort of a slap in the face, but Niall doesn’t fight back, which Harry is immensely grateful for. He doesn’t have it in him to keep going either. So Harry takes the opportunity to change the subject.

“How’s Louis?”

“No better off. He’s hurting, mate, but he said it’s his fault. I’m really protective of him, so instantly I went to defend his honor, but he told me. He told me that you talked to him and said it’s up to him on what happens next. I think he’s being bloody thick if you ask me, but what do I know?”

“It’s my fault too, though. I put him in a position he shouldn’t have ever been in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know on the surface it seems like I’m just asking him to tell me the truth, but really I’m asking him to choose. Between Zayn and I. If he comes back to me, and decides he wants to tell me everything, that means that he wants to give whatever we are a try. That would mean he picked me. His silence, means he picked Zayn.”

“Harry it’s not like that-”

“But it is. It’s been over two weeks, Niall. He’s not coming back.”

“Are you giving up on him?”

“I don’t know that I could ever give up on Louis Tomlinson, but I’m giving up on myself. On the part of myself that believed in him. I’m giving up any morsel of hope I had for love, and the idea of it.”

“What if he just needs more time?”

“I can’t keep waiting on ‘what ifs,’ Niall.”

Niall is muted then, and minutes pass quietly until Harry feels himself begin to doze off. When he’s on the brink of being awake or not, he hears Niall say one last thing, before he tumbles into slumber’s abyss.

“You should know that Louis loves you.”

And whether unfortunately or fortunately, Harry falls asleep before his memories can capture what Niall’s said.

* * * *

**Tuesday**

Gemma and Harry’s Mum came over on Tuesday to take care of him for a few days. Roger and Perrie were informed that Harry wouldn’t be able to make it in, and both have told him to enjoy this needed break. Niall was nice enough to drop Harry off back home, and help him up to his flat, but the entire time was spent in awkward silence, neither knowing what to possible say anymore. Liam was final in the line of people that contacted Harry, stopping over last night to check on him, but Louis…Louis said nothing.

* * * *

**Saturday**

Against Gemma and his Mum’s wishes, Harry leaves the flat on his own, to meet up with Mr. Cardone. It’s the first time he’s left by himself, but he’s been pleading for a break from the two for a while. He loves them tremendously, but they can be very overwhelming, and they like to dictate Harry’s life as if Harry isn’t capable of making his own decisions. But finally, Harry stuck his foot down and left.

Entering the restaurant that Mr. Cardone picked for their lunch, Harry quickly glances around until he finds the man sitting at the table, talking to the waiter already. Standing up taller, Harry makes his way over, and as gently as he can with his legs and arse still sore, sits down. As he pulls the cloth napkin off the table and onto his lap, he looks up to greet Mr. Cardone, when another figure comes suddenly into his view. Carmel hair, sun-kissed skin, a smile that could cure depression…Louis. And fuck, of course he looks good.

“Harry?”

Mr. Cardone says Harry’s name, and despite it being relatively quiet, apparently it’s loud enough for Louis’ ears to hear, because he turns his gentle eyes in the direction of the voice and locks onto Harry. Louis freezes completely, mouth opened wide, and Harry himself has seemingly paused in a moment in time. The only thing that pulls Harry from this spell, is when Mr. Cardone flicks his fingers onto Harry’s hand.

“Harry?”

“Oh, erm, yeah. Sorry.”

The apology is meaningless though because Harry isn’t sorry. He’s not sorry that he saw Louis, and he’s not sorry that he took time away from Mr. Cardone’s lunch, to glance at him some more. In fact, Harry is so not sorry that he spends the rest of their lunch idly responding back, as he keeps his eyes attentive on the older boy. He seems to be at a business meeting of sorts, a few other people sitting around in suits, discussing something Harry’s ears are incapable of hearing. Ultimately, Harry grows impatient of the distance between them, and relieves himself to the bathroom from Mr. Cardone’s careful watch.

“Excuse me, sir. I need to freshen up.”

“Quickly.”

Walking to the restroom, Harry barely pushes through the door and enters inside, when another person comes in closely after him. Exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Louis.”

But when Harry gets to fully observe Louis, he looks angered and annoyed, and Harry has no idea why.

“What are you doing here, Harry?”

“I’m with Mr. Cardone.”

“With? As in talking about business?”

“No… _with._  As in that’s the guy I’ve been seeing.”

“That guy…with the gray hair and wrinkles…?”

Louis is actually pointing to the corner of the bathroom when he clarifies which man Harry is referring too, but Harry gets the gist.

“Yeah…”

“So that’s also the same guy who ‘punished’ you, yeah?”

“Maybe.”

“Harry I’m going to tell that guy to fuck right off, and then you’re coming with me.”

“What? No.”

“No?”

“Louis, you…you haven’t talked to me in three weeks. You haven’t said a word, haven’t asked how I am. I told you, the ball’s in your court. I’m glad that I got to see you today, I’ve really missed you, but I didn’t lead you back here with the intentions of you stealing me away. I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you that I understand the decision that you’ve made, and I hope someday we can be friends again.”

“Decision I’ve made? What are you on about?”

“You clearly chose Zayn, Lou. It’s fine, I truthfully didn’t expect any different. I’m just saying that at first, it was hard, but I’m okay with it now.”

“What…I…”

“I have to get going, but I’m really happy to have seen you.”

Harry takes a step past Louis, but Louis grabs a hold of his slightly bent arm, keeping him from moving ahead.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“You’re going to go back out there? To him?”

“I have to.”

Harry smiles at Louis, hoping the small grin’s purpose can be conveyed. That everything is going to be okay. But what Harry doesn’t see when he walks out of the door, leaving Louis behind, is that the older boy falls to the floor and cries. And cries, and cries, and cries. He cries for his own stupid naivety in thinking he could wait. He cries for all the misconstrued information that has Harry acting this way. He cries for all the things he never said but really should have. And most of all, he cries for Harry. He cries for the boy he wishes was in his arms, and not another’s. He cries for the boy he wishes was still here talking to him, smiling at him. He cries for the boy he wishes he could give the sun, but knowing he’s the one, that’s left them both in total darkness.

* * * *

**Sunday**

After breakfast, Gemma and Harry’s Mum pack up their bags to head back home. With their stuff in the doorway, they both attack him with a million kisses and hugs, and make him promise that he’ll call them more, as they make their way out of his flat. Once they’re gone, Harry is reminded how taunting the quiet can be, so he tries to ignore his past chanting for him to let them in, when a knock sounds at the door. Thankful for the distraction, Harry paces over and swings open the handle to find Niall and Liam on the other side.

“Oh, erm. ‘ello.”

Liam is the one to talk first.

“Harry, we uhm, were wondering if you wanted to come over. You know, just hang out?”

“Really?”

With a hopeful grin, Niall responds.

“Yeah, we’re about to watch a movie and we thought it would be nice to have you over, as well.”

“What about Louis?”

They both look at each other and then back at Harry, when Niall answers.

“We may be friends with Louis, but we’ve started to become friends with you too. We shouldn’t let your issues come between us.”

“You really mean that?”

Liam comments again.

“Yeah, we do.”

There are a number of things Harry could question about this offer. There are a number of things Harry could over analyze, but for once, he doesn’t want to. For once, he doesn’t want to doubt what someone’s saying, or what they’re doing. So instead of wrestling with every obstacle or event that comes his way, he’s going to learn to accept them as they are, starting with this one.

“Alright then, I’m in.”

* * * *

**Sunday (Three Weeks Later)**

Shopping with his sister, Harry walks around to find some new shirts for the oncoming of Fall. The weather has been getting cooler, though still entangled with summer’s heat, but soon enough the air will have a brisk chill to it, and Harry is not prepared. Mr. Cardone as well, suggested that Harry ought to buy himself something more durable for the colder months, so here he is, with Gemma beside him.

“Harry?”

The achingly familiar cadence of a northern accented lad, coats over Harry like vodka. Smooth as it washes coldly over his skin, but fiery as it seeps within. From his heart, there’s a white-hot heat that emerges, spreading throughout Harry’s bones, but his skin is laced with goosebumps as if a chill has passed him by. Harry tries to pretend that his reaction to the sound is subtle, as he turns to face toward it, ignoring his sister’s curious eyebrow raise. But even still, a gentle smile wraps up his lips at the very person he’s tried fairly hard not to think about.

“Louis!”

The two embrace in a quick hug, and then pull away just as fast.

“How are you? You look great.”

Harry laughs off his comment with a roll of his eyes.

“Thanks, and good. Oh erm, Louis… this is my sister, Gemma. Gemma, this is Louis.”

The two shake hands in greeting, and Harry knows he’s going to hear an earful from his sister after the older boy leaves. All the stories Harry’s told about a particular ‘Louis,’ Gemma can now put a picture too.

“Are you both just here shopping?”

Harry answers Louis’ question without hesitation.

“Yeah, needed some warmer clothes for the Fall. You shopping too, I presume?”

“Yeah, just needed to pick up something quick. So uhm, I don’t want to keep taking up your time, but would you possibly want to meet up for drinks one of these nights?”

Harry tries not to, but he absolutely beams at Louis’ offer, rapidly cursing himself for being easily affected by the older boy’s charm.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Cool, you still have my number?”

“Yes, Lou.”

Louis grins, and then nods his head.

“Good. Well, I’ll be off then. It was lovely meeting you, Gemma. See you, Harold.”

And after truly two months of no proper conversations, or hanging out, aside from the one time in the bathroom, Louis still manages to invade Harry’s heart with a quick look of his sapphire eyes. It’s truly alarming, because how is Louis always so different than the rest? How is he always above all else? When he is fully out of sight, Gemma turns to give Harry a look suggesting she’s about to have a huge talk with him in regards to making bad decisions, but Harry doesn’t mind. He’s just gotten to see Louis after a very long time apart, and even more so, he’s potentially getting to see him again! That’s cause for some serious celebration in Harry’s opinion.

* * * *

**Monday**

**I know I just saw you yesterday, but I wanted to make plans before my week filled up**

It’s ten in the morning, Louis’ text has woken Harry up from another night of inconsistent sleep, and yet, Harry’s perfectly okay with that.

**_I work Wednesday thru Sunday now, but all at night._ **

Though it took a lot of convincing on Harry’s end with Mr. Cardone, he finally got the man to accept Harry’s request for having more shifts. He wanted to spend his time doing something, he couldn’t stand sitting around in his flat with nothing but Netflix and Cable to watch. He started running again in the morning to try to help take up some time, but it still wasn’t enough. If he wanted to forget about Louis, he needed to keep himself busy.

**Tomorrow? Dinner?**

**_Tomorrow? Sure, why not! Hope you can pencil me in._ **

**I’ve always got time for you, Harry.**

And well, there goes all his attempts at forgetting Louis these past three weeks, right out the fucking window.

* * * *

**Tuesday**

Tugging on the bottom of his brown jacket sleeves, Harry shakily enters the restaurant to meet up with Louis. He’d been panicking all day about what to wear, but he decided to stick with black skinny jeans, and a regular black t-shirt. This wasn’t a date, he didn’t need to dress up. Searching around in the dim lighted restaurant, Harry finds Louis waving at him from a few booths away, and then heads over to him.  _Guess it’s now or never_.

“Hi, Lou.”

“Hiya, Harold. See you made it here okay.”

“Yes, wasn’t too hard to find. Thanks for asking me out, so glad to see you.”

“Me too.”

When Louis says ‘me too’ their eyes connect, and it’s as if the whole world slows. Harry knows that idea is preposterous, but everything around them has no significance when he’s looking at Louis. That’s how he’s always felt, Louis is always the most important. He will never understand why that is…why Louis held so much value to him, or why Louis still holds so much value to him, but that’s just how it is. That’s what he’s learned to acknowledge.

“Hello boys, my name is Melanie, I’ll be your server for tonight? Can I start you off with some drinks?”

Their connection is interrupted as Melanie, their waiter, comes over and orders their beverages. Once she leaves, Harry clears his throat and tries for keeping it friendly, since in his mind that’s equivalent to keeping it safe.

“So, Lou. What has been going on in your life since we last talked?”

Louis tilts his head up like he’s thinking of a variety of options to tell, and then starts listing them off aloud to Harry.

“Let’s see, I’ve been non-stop working, non-stop drinking, I think my two best mates have come to hate me, and I’ve gone and lost someone who was really dear to me.”

“Oh, erm…”

Harry’s frazzled at the information, but then Louis shakes his hands in front of himself in regret.

“Sorry. I…I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. Just forget I said anything. I want tonight to be fun, like nothing has come between us.”

“But, Lou…”

“No Harry, I don’t want to disagree about this-”

“Louis! We can’t pretend that nothing ever happened, and I don’t want to. I want to talk to you, and see you, and hang out with you, but I also want there to be an understanding of what we’ve gone through. I don’t want to ignore it as if it never happened, that’s not fair to either of us.”

“What if I’m not ready to move on? What if I don’t want to just agree that we made mistakes, and then try being friends?”

Harry’s heart is thrumming so loud in his head; he almost can’t hear Louis’ words. If he doesn’t want to be friends, then what does he want?

“Well, the ball’s still in your court. It has been all this time.”

“I know that.”

“And yet you’ve done nothing about it. So I don’t know what you want me to do. You don’t want to move on and be friends, you don’t want to let me in, so please…Lou…What. Is. It. That. You. Want?”

Harry enunciates every letter as if that will help clarify the question for Louis, but he fears he’s not going to get anywhere.

“I never said I didn’t want to let you in.”

“Well ignoring me for weeks seemed like a pretty good indication of that.”

“I was scared! In order for me to tell you the truth, to tell you everything’s that’s happened, that means that I have to recognize it really happened to me. For three years I’ve been in denial, Harry, until you came along. I don’t know how or why, maybe it’s because you had the drawing, but you changed everything in my life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I didn’t mean to continue avoiding you like the plague for as long as I did, but after a while, it felt like too much time passed and I didn’t know how to bring it up again, or confront you.”

“Are you saying then, that you are ready to tell me your secrets? Each and every one of them?”

“Not today, but soon, yes. I want to work this back up first, rebuild it. I don’t want to pour cement on top of a fragile structure. It won’t help us.”

The concept he offers is logical, they haven’t been in a good place in months, if Harry were to tell Louis everything right at this moment, would it honestly do them any good? Probably not.

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Does that mean that you’re willing to go out with me again?”

Harry rolls his eyes while smiling, and then chuckles at Louis trying to give him puppy eyes.

“Obviously, you twat.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t have taken no for answer.”

* * * *

Dinner was spent with laughter, banter, and a conversation that found no end. It was one of the best nights Harry’s had in a while, and he left the restaurant with a familiar enchanted tingle, coursing through his veins. He’d forgotten what it was like to be with Louis, the fun they used to have, and he was glad to have gotten to experience his wonders again. Louis Tomlinson is a hurricane, he’s felt that since day one, and Harry is a weather chaser, daring to stand in the eye of the storm.

Making his way to his flat, Harry knocks on the door opposite of his, to talk with two people that have been anxiously waiting all night for his reaction. When the door is swung open, Harry is yanked in by Niall who is squirming along with Liam, in need of information.

“Soooooooooo, how was it?”

“God Niall, you can’t even wait till I’ve had a seat.”

Liam and Niall laugh, as Harry sits down in the center of the couch.

“It was surprisingly really good. He wants to build our friendship again, and then tell me everything.”

Liam interjects noticeably upset.

“He wants to wait more?”

“Louis said that if he told me now, it would be like ‘pouring cement on top of a fragile structure.’ That we would still fall apart… it wouldn’t help.”

Niall nods his head and replies.

“That makes sense. You guys aren’t in a good place, you’re still going to have to fix that one way or another, might as well do it before you unload all your baggage.”

“I just hope that he’s really ready this time around.”

Motioning his head in agreement, Liam speaks up to make one final point.

“Me too…and Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t rush into this, okay? We don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”

“I won’t, promise.”

The two lads smile at Harry, and then move closer together to squish him within tight hugs. Harry chuckles from the embrace, and while he’ll never admit it, he’s filled with such gratitude that the two had ever even chosen to befriend him at all. He doesn’t know what he’d do without them now.

* * * *

**Thursday**

“You’ll never guess!”

Standing in the back room of ‘The Regency,’ Harry repositions his hair, and adjusts his vest, when Perrie comes barreling into him with pure excitement.

“Hmm?”

“Nice eyes is back.”

“Is he now?”

“Yes, and he asked for you! Told him you’d be out in a sec.”

“Well then, better not make him wait.”

As he’s about to exit, Perrie tugs on Harry’s wrist, asking him to turn around and look at her again.

“Yeah?”

“Harry, he’s not…he’s not the reason you were really upset, is he?”

Harry huffs out a sigh, and relaxes his shoulders.

“It’s complicated. In some ways yes, but I truly believe none of it was intentional.”

“You know, there was a guy I used to talk to, and it was like everything else was right except for us. The timing was perfect, we had mutual friends, we had similar majors, and we tried to make it work, but we just couldn’t. We kept trying because it seemed like it was meant to happen, but that’s not what life had in store for us. Looking back, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s hard realizing when it’s time to let things go.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Perrie. But it’s okay, promise.”

“I trust you, love. Just be careful.”

“I will.”

Giving her a quick hug, Harry straightens his posture, and then enters out into the bar. It’s another crowded evening with a room packed full of strangers, but in the midst of all the chaos, there’s a person that stands out like a lighthouse above the rest. With that notion at the forefront of his thoughts, Harry now understands Louis describing Zayn in the same way, all those months back. But remembering that deeply saddens Harry, so instead, he shakes it away as something not to fret over tonight, and focuses in on the lonely boy sitting at the furthest left stool at the bar. Harry smirks at the sight, some things haven’t changed.

“ ‘ello stranger.”

Coming up behind him and whispering in his ear, Louis jerks, and then catches Harry with his eyes.

“Curly! You’ve arrived. Just in time, I’m quite parched.”

“Is that so? What’ll it be then?”

Getting into position behind the counter, Louis cheekily smiles as he tells Harry his order.

“Beer, and getting to walk you home.”

Harry chuckles as he comments back to Louis.

“That second one isn’t on the menu.”

Biting his bottom lip, and raising both his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, Louis responds.

“I think you can figure something out.”

And with the cockiest expression painting Louis’ face, Harry can hardly decline. Or think at all for that matter.

“I suppose it can be arranged.”

“Good lad. Knew you had it in you.”

* * * *

“Louis, Lou, Lou…whatever will I do about you?”

Stepping out in the night air, Autumn caresses the wind with the lightest touch, just enough to send a shiver down Harry’s back as he and Louis stand together.

“Hopefully bake me cookies.”

“What are you even talking about?”

The boys laugh as they begin their walk to Harry’s.

“Harry, I didn’t get a chance to ask the other night, but uhm, what’s been going on in your life these past couple months?”

“Nothing really. I took on more shifts at the bar to keep myself occupied, I’ve been spending time with my sister, hanging out with Niall and Liam, and seeing Mr. Cardone.”

“Mr. Cardone…the guy from the restaurant?”

“Yes. That’s the one.”

“Do you love him yet?”

Harry huffs out lazily.

“I told you, Lou…I don’t believe in such things.”

“Right…are you happy?”

Happy? Is Harry happy? Walking with Louis he is, talking with Gemma he is, seeing his Mum or mates he is, but happy…and with Mr. Cardone? That’s a firm no.

“I’m content.”

“That’s good I suppose.”

“I suppose. Do you still go running? Haven’t seen you out.”

“Oh, sometimes. Haven’t felt much like it, but I know I should.”

“You can join me, if you want. I go every morning now, do the same course we did that one time.”

“Yeah? I’ll think about it. Most likely not tomorrow, but maybe Saturday?”

“Okay.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause where Harry’s unaware of what’s coming next, so he braces himself for the worst.

“I just want to let you know that I’ve missed you, incredibly. And I think before we go any further, I need to apologize for my mistakes. I’m sorry leaving without saying a word. I’m sorry for pushing you past your limit, I’m sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you ever.”

And well, fuck. Harry’s heart is swelling like a hot air balloon, and he’s sure he’s going to lift off the ground and float away into sky. This isn’t good. How can Harry possibly maintain being friends when all that Louis says gives him more to fall in love with?

“I’m sorry too, Louis. For all the same things and more. And I’ve missed you too, insanely.”

Unsure of when it happened, Harry notices that they’ve stopped walking, and are now facing one another. Louis’ pupils are dilated to the point that the blue is barely visible, as he’s staring up at Harry, and Harry feels a heat ignite in his belly, taking him hostage.

“Louis?”

Harry whispers his name between them, and he’s sure they’ll be kissing soon, but Louis suddenly blinks his eyes a few times and then takes a large step away. Harry’s disappointed, though he really has no right to be.

“Sorry, Curly. Well, uhm…I’ve got you home safe and sound. Text me Saturday before you go on your run. I can’t guarantee that I’ll come, but I’ll try.”

“I will. Goodnight, Lou.”

“Goodnight, Curly.”

There’s something that pulls inside of Harry, telling him to kiss Louis. Yelling at him to touch Louis, but he ignores it with a harsh swallow. He needs to do his best to be a good friend, what does his mind think it’s doing?

* * * *

**Saturday**

**_Do you want to run with me? :)_ **

**Ughh…yeah. I’ll meet you at the park!**

**Okay!**

Yanking on a sweatshirt, and athletic shorts, Harry ties on his sneakers and makes his way out to the park. Surprisingly, by the time he’s managed to make it there, Louis is already waiting for him.

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“Cab.”

Harry giggles at the answer.

“Are you serious?”

“Didn’t want to make you wait.”

“Like you haven’t before?”

“Low blow, Curly. Low blow.”

They both laugh as Louis reaches his hand into Harry’s hair and messes it up in retaliation. As Harry tries to adjust the messy strands that have fallen loose, he asks Louis one last question.

“You ready?”

“Suppose I’ve got no choice.”

“Nope, none at all.”

Harry exposes the widest grin he can at the end of his words, that lifts a smiles on Louis’ face as well. And then with a mischievous glint, Louis darts off ahead of Harry, whose left standing behind and shaking his head. After another second, Harry intakes a sharp breath to start running after the older boy, but truth be told, jogging behind him is not a bad view to look.

* * * *

Another restaurant filled with another round of posh elites, and rich snobs. Harry fixes his shirt’s button, taking his time until he has to head back out, and then descends from the bathroom to the table Mr. Cardone is at.

“Sorry for the wait.”

“No problem. You seem to be doing better than the last couple weeks, Harry. I’m glad to see it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I knew getting rid of those friends would do you some good.”

Harry wants to burst out laughing at the older man, but instead, contains it to himself.

“Yes, that was good thinking, sir.”

“Hopefully your good mood will benefit us later, as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

Today, Harry really doesn’t want to go back to the hotel room. Instead, he’d like to go over to Louis’ and spend time with him, but unfortunately, the thing Harry wants most will have to continue to wait. Not much longer though, he prays.

* * * *

**Tuesday**

Niall is sprawled out on the couch, Harry is sitting under his feet, and Liam has taken the chair to the side. The three lads are lounging around, getting ready to watch a movie, when there’s a knock at the door. Harry’s eyebrows scrunch with curiosity towards Niall who just shrugs his shoulders, but it’s Liam who gets up to answer. When the door is swung open, the mysterious person turns out to be Louis, who smiles tentatively at Liam and the rest of the group.

“Louis! Glad you could make it.”

Cleary Liam had invited Louis over, but the expression on Niall’s face suggests he’s just as clueless to Liam’s invitation as Harry is. Harry doesn’t mind though, he’s happy to have Louis back with them, despite Niall showing that he’s feeling otherwise.

“Hi lads, mind if I come in?”

Harry parts his lips to respond, when Niall cuts him off and makes a hasty comment to Louis.

“Kitchen. Now.”

While Harry is a bit taken by the sudden anger in Niall’s tone, Louis doesn’t seem to be surprised by the demand directed at him one bit. Liam even waves it off, and sits next to Harry on the couch nonchalantly.

“Harry, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious, they just need a minute.”

Which turns out, couldn’t be more true. Hardly a minute later, the two come from the kitchen and take spots in the living room, now acting quite cheerful considering their initial greeting. Liam smiles at them, and Harry just acts as if nothing is different, as Louis takes the spot on his other side.

“Hiya, Curly.”

“Hi, Lou.”

Niall then turns to play the DVD, and everyone settles into their seats more comfortably. Niall with his feet up on the armrest, Liam leaning all the way back, and Louis with his head nestled on Harry’s shoulder. While nothing really happens, and the movie they choose to watch sucks, it still ends up being a perfect night.

* * * *

**Thursday**

“I’m telling you, ‘Stranger Things’ is not scary enough that you can’t watch it on your own.”

Louis is disagreeing jokingly with Harry, as they march home after another night at the bar. Harry barely recalls how they got on to the subject of Netflix shows they need to watch, when Louis suddenly was on him about not seeing the highly popular series.

“Lou, I don’t care how many times you tell me this, I’m not going to watch it alone.”

“I feel like you’re just trying to get me to say that I’ll watch it with you.”

“And is it working?”

Louis lifts his head up as he laughs loudly into the night, like a wolf howling to the moon. Harry kind of wants to lick up the side of Louis’ exposed next, but redirects his thoughts elsewhere. That is not a good hole to tumble down tonight, or ever.

“Maybe. Are there gonna be snacks?”

“Whatever you’d like.”

“Are there gonna be drinks?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Are we gonna have fun?”

“Most definitely.”

“Sold! Alright, I’m in. When?”

“Sunday?”

“Perfect. I’ll be there at two.”

As they make their way onwards to Harry’s flat, Harry thinks that Sunday can’t come soon enough.

* * * *

**Friday**

Another morning disturbed by another early call, as Harry’s phone rings blaringly beside his bed. He’d very much like to ignore it, and recover the sleep he’s now missing out on, but he knows that ringtone. It was set specific for the person that’s calling, and no, he can’t ignore it. And even though he’s told her a million and a half times to call at noon, his Mum is still ringing him at nine in the morning. Yawning angrily, Harry sits up on his mattress as he reaches for his phone, and then pulls the device to his ear.

“Mum?”

Attached to his words is a large helping of annoyance, but yet again, his Mum claims ignorance to the sound.

“Harry! Haven’t talked to you in ages, love. Where’ve you been?”

“Sorry, just busy. Hanging with the lads, working, ‘ve seen Gemma a few times.”

“Yeah, she told me. Sounds like you’re doing well. So glad to hear!”

It seems to Harry that his Mum just wants to chat, and despite his body pleading to lay back down, he suffers through because he knows she’s missed him. And truthfully, he’s missed her too.

“How about you, what’ve you been up to?”

“Nothing really, I’ve got an empty nest.”

“Are you telling me to come visit?”

“Yes, I am! And soon please! I miss you!”

She voices her request in a pleading, yet humoring manner, and Harry laughs at her silliness, but he also knows that’s what she really wants. He knows she’s been wanting to visit, or for him to visit her, but the timing since he left home hasn’t been right.

“Okay, okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you!”

“No problem, Mum.”

“I’ll let you go now, but call me when you can. I don’t hear from you enough.”

“I’m sorry, I will.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And even though Harry’s glad in the end that he answered her call, there’s a nagging feeling in his chest that suggests he’s not really doing enough, not for her. And that feeling, that feeling that chomps at the center of his heart like a piranha, is especially painful to reflect on.

* * * *

**Saturday**

**Can’t wait to watch Stranger Things with you tomorrow! Better be ready!**

**_I can’t either!_ **

“Harry? Are you texting?”

Coming back down from cloud nine that he’s on with Louis, Harry is seated across from Mr. Cardone. The older man has just asked for their bill, and Harry thought he could sneak back a reply without going noticed. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

“Sorry, sir. Just my sister asking me what I’m doing tomorrow.”

There’s a scowl that warps his mouth, accentuating the bitter glare Mr. Cardone is targeting at Harry.

“Not again.”

Harry feels like a child being scolded by their parent, so he nods his head to move past this uncomfortable situation.

“Yes, sir.”

* * * *

Perrie is reaching over the bar counter to talk with Louis, who Harry is somehow surprised to see here tonight. As he comes from the back room to stand alongside the bubblegum haired girl, Harry bumps hips with Perrie and says ‘hi’ to Louis, who also happens to have a gorgeous silver haired girl closely next to him.

“Lou! I’m starting to think you’re stalking me with all the times you’ve come in.”

“You wish, Curly. Oh, and I’ve brought someone for you to meet. This is my sister, Lottie. Lottie, this is Harry.”

Sister…with that information newly stored in his memory, Harry takes a second to observe their features, and instantaneously, he can see the resemblances. But of all the ones Harry finds, the most obvious similarity is that they both have those mesmerizing, electric blue eyes. Which Harry is rather glad to see another pair, since it’s his favorite physical trait of Louis’. After making his comparisons, Harry extends out his right hand and an affectionate smile, welcoming Lottie enthusiastically.

“Hi Lottie! Nice to meet you, love!”

“Hi! Likewise! So wait…you’re the one that’s into Dom/Sub activities, right?”

Harry’s mouth drops at her bluntness, and Louis scoffs beside her, nearly spilling his drink.

“Lotts, that is not how you properly greet someone! I thought we trained you better!”

“Sorry, but I’ve been dying to talk to him about it!”

Harry interjects their bickering to address Lottie.

“Wait…you’re the one that Louis said wanted to talk to me about it previously?”

“Yes! I always love to meet other people in the community. It’s where I’ve made some of my closest friends.”

“Hold that thought.”

Moving away from the two siblings, Harry walks over to Perrie who’s handing a customer their drink order. He’s not sure why the sudden urge to talk to Lottie has taken him hold. Maybe it’s because he had the idea in his head months ago when Louis initially mentioned it. Maybe it’s because Harry’s curious what others are like with their partners. Maybe it’s because Harry really doesn’t know as much about this as he really should, and for some reason wants to.

“Perrie.”

“Yes?”

“I know I just started but do you mind if I take my break now? There’s someone I want to talk to about some…things.”

“Fuck, Harry. Fine…just be quick.”

“Thank you!”

He kisses Perrie on the top of her head, and then runs back over and out from the counter, standing in front of the two siblings while Harry talks directly to Lottie.

“I’m going on break, do you want to talk now?”

Louis responds before his younger sister can.

“Didn’t you just start your shift?”

“Yeah, but Perrie said it’s fine. So Lottie…?”

She beams up at Harry, glimpsing at Louis once for a mere fraction of a millisecond, until turning her focus fully to the taller boy, and reiterating eagerly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay! Louis you have to stay here.”

“Fine… I’ll just drink my beer.”

Lottie pulls Harry away to a high top table secluded from those that they know in the bar, and with a cheeky grin, dives right in to details.

* * * *

The first five minutes were spent with Lottie talking about her experience, and how her and her boyfriend came about the concept to begin with. It was enlightening to Harry, but also scary, since her situation was drastically different from his. After she had told him everything she wanted to, she asked Harry to share his story, and so the next additional five minutes were spent with Harry going into detail about him and Mr. Cardone. During the time that Harry had been listening to Lottie talk, his facial expression towards her story had been gleeful, enlightened, curious. When Lottie was listening to Harry share his own, her expression was not the same. Not even remotely close.

“Harry…do you mind me asking a couple of questions?’

Her face is stern, but Harry tries to ignore the worry it develops within him, and continues with a optimistic smile.

“Not at all!”

“Okay. Uhm…do you have a safe word with your partner?”

“A safe word? No?”

“Does he ask you for your colors?”

“My colors? I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Does do any kind of aftercare with you?”

“Like cleaning my wounds? No, he erm, he makes me do that myself.”

Lottie looks gutted, and Harry’s own stomach begins to knot like a ball of yarn, tangling itself with hints of fear. But what should he be afraid of? What is there possibly to be afraid of?

“Harry, please listen to me. I…I think your partner is lying to you. When people take on the role of being a Dom or being a Sub, there’s a level of trust and understanding, and knowing each other’s boundaries. It sounds to me like he’s justifying abusing you by saying he’s acting the role of a Dom. That’s disgusting, that’s horrific. I’m…I’m not trying to upset you, but please, there’s something not okay with what he’s doing to you.”

Paralyzed, Harry can do nothing but absorb the words that Lottie has said. Lying? Abuse? Harry’s not an idiot, he knew Mr. Cardone had taken things too far on a handful of occasions, but to deceive Harry into thinking that it was okay? To convince Harry that that’s how it works? When the information is fully ingested, Harry can’t see straight. His vision is blurry, and his organs feel like they’re going to burst, so he runs to the bathroom to release all that’s building up; leaving Lottie behind at the table.

* * * *

It’s not long that he’s in the bathroom when Louis’ voice can be heard from the other side of the stall. However, Harry doesn’t want Louis to see him in this state. On the bathroom floor, sobbing into his arm, his meal from earlier deposited in the toilet.

“Harry? Please, let me in.”

When Harry doesn’t reply or open the door, Louis doesn’t wait or leave. Instead, Harry sees the older boy’s feet take a step back, and then all at once, Louis is kicking the stall door open with the bottom of his right foot, startling Harry even more as the door swings violently back and forth. Harry tries to cover himself now that there’s no longer a barrier between him and Louis, but Louis moves too fast for him to hide.

“Oh, love. Come here.”

He knows he must look bad, because Louis’ reaction to Harry is distressed as he inches closer to the fallen boy. Harry just wants to lay down, and he just wants to go to sleep, and never wake up. But Louis doesn’t let him as he flushes the toilet for him, and pulls Harry into his arms to hoist the boy on to his feet. As they make it out of the bathroom, Lottie meets them by the front door, with Perrie standing by anxiously next to her. Not wanting to be seen, Harry shoves his face further into Louis’ neck to hide his embarrassment, and doesn’t pull away even when he and the two siblings are getting inside of a cab.

“I’m gonna take you to my place, Harry. You’ll be better there.”

Louis whispers to Harry inside the car, and rubs circles into the boy’s back, even though Harry tries to protest Louis’ statement. But Louis pulls him along tighter into his chest, and kisses the top of Harry’s forehead, and when he speaks next, it’s with his desperate lips still pressed firmly against Harry’s wanting skin.

“I’m not letting you go.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Sunday**

The sound of chatter is audible enough to jostle Harry from his sleep. He doesn’t want to get out of bed, but as the questionable discussion is heard again, Harry remembers he’s not at his own flat. In which case, changes things, because Harry for sure has to leave Louis’. He can’t stay. Standing up out of the bed, Harry fixes the sheets, and then pulls open the door. Immediately, there are two pairs of blue eyes watching him as he emerges, and then he takes a seat next to Lottie at the island in the kitchen.

“Mornin’, Harry. How are you feeling?”

Louis asks the question as he hands over tea to the younger boy.

“Feel like shit.”

This time Lottie replies.

“I’m sorry for saying that to you when I did Harry, but it just upset me a lot. That’s a horrible way to abuse someone’s trust, and I…”

“It’s alright. I know where you’re coming from.”

“I’m glad. Anyways, it’s time I better get going, Louis call me. Harry, if you ever want to talk about this again, you can always come to me.”

“Thank you, Lottie.”

“Anytime.”

Lottie rubs Harry’s shoulders on her way out of the flat, leaving the two boys behind in an awkwardness Harry wants to dispel. Luckily, it seems that Louis does too.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What is there to say? He lied to me and abused me. I can’t believe I was such an idiot.”

“You weren’t! You’re not. Harry, he lied to you. He’s the one to blame, not you. You did nothing wrong.”

“I trusted him.”

“And he abused that trust.”

Everything being said stabs at Harry. It’s as if he’s fallen onto a bush with thorns shoving into every square inch of his body, and the more he tries to move or escape, the further in they nestle. It’s irritating, and infuriating, and Harry wants to fucking explode the more this all dawns on him, but then Harry remembers that well… he did put himself in this position, now didn’t he? He screwed himself over, didn’t he? He’s the one who’s a filthy fucking slut, isn’t he? So really, is it that surprising that Mr. Cardone was abusing his trust, and lying to him? Well, no. Not really. Not when Harry remembers the kind of position he’s in.

But then there’s Louis, perfect Louis, angelic Louis, defending his honor despite not knowing the truth. Like Harry’s own knight in shining armor, or rather, shining Adidas sneakers, and Harry wants to cry even more. Because if Louis did know, he wouldn’t be saying these things. If Louis did know the person that Harry really is, he wouldn’t even be talking to him or befriending him at all. And while Harry wants to keep Louis forever, and pretend that nothing is wrong, he can’t. Because the last thing Harry needs is another relationship built upon lies.

“Louis…I really want to go home.”

The older boy is noticeably devastated at Harry’s statement, but there’s nothing Harry can do. He needs to leave.

“Oh, you do?”

“I don’t mean my flat. I mean home, to my Mum.”

“Are you going today?”

“I think so. I just need to get away, get some time to think.”

“I understand.”

There’s a pause, and Harry shouldn’t say what he’s about to say next, but he does anyways because he’s an idiot. And because he knows there’s too much left unresolved between them.

“Will you still be here when I get back?”

Louis smirks with dotting eyes.

“Always.”

* * * *

**Monday**

Harry was a fool to think he could go a week without talking to Louis. His Mum was beyond glad to see him home, and Roger wasn’t as mad as Harry was afraid he’d be when he called and said he wouldn’t make it in. However, after hardly a day of sleeping in his old bed, and watching the telly with his Mum, he’s already missing Louis dearly. And whether surprising or not, that’s the only thing that’s truly upsetting him.

Relaxing on the couch, Harry and his Mum are watching a show about contestants trying to find their soulmates. The concept of the show ignites a memory Harry had nearly forgotten about, of him and Gemma discussing the potential of him and Louis; of them two being soulmates. Sure, Harry felt something akin to a spark when he met the boy, but at the time, Harry dismissed it because he was so sure that it couldn’t be possible. But after all that’s happened, after all they’ve been through, Harry can say that he’s still drawn to Louis in a way he’s sure he’ll never be able to fully comprehend.

“Mum?”

“Yes, darling?”

Now that the idea, or chance of Louis being his soulmate has manifested itself in his mind, Harry can’t stop thinking about it. How that notion would explain everything that’s occurred between them, and all that Harry has emotionally gone through with Louis, regardless of the honestly short time they’ve spent together. As the thoughts swirl around and around like a carousel in his head, the idea begins to take root, gripping firmly within his brain cells. However, while it’s starting to seem more and more likely, Harry can’t help wanting some other form of evidence to support this theory.

“How do you know when you’ve met your soulmate?’

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Well, it’s not very common, but obviously for some people, it does happen where they feel the spark. I never felt it, but I heard that it’s instantaneous. Supposedly, the first sight you get of your soulmate there’s a strong force that takes over both people. I hear that it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world.”

“Is it possible for only one person to feel it?”

“No, definitely not.”

Harry attempts to go back to watching the show his Mum has put on, but he can’t stop the continuous stream of points and facts that flood within him. One would think that at this moment, Harry would be most upset about what’s happening with Mr. Cardone. One would think that Harry would be spending his time, trying to figure out how he’s going to handle that entire situation. One would think that Harry would even be struggling, in trying to come to terms with his role in all of that, and how he needs to openly admit to it. But that’s not the case, and Mr. Cardone hasn’t been a top priority in Harry’s mind for some time now.

What Harry is most concerned about is the fact that he hasn’t told Louis the entire truth of his relationship with the older man. What Harry is most concerned about is the fact that even through all this bullshit, he cares most about what Louis thinks of him. What Harry is most concerned about, is the fact that even though he has a lot to tell Louis, at the end of all of it, he has to admit that he’s been harboring feelings for the blue-eyed boy since before he knew he could even do such a thing. And above all else, what Harry is most concerned about, is that the way he feels towards Louis won’t be reciprocated, and what he’s finally allowed himself to want and need, would be for not. Which would fucking suck, now that he’s finally started to believe he’s deserving of something more.

* * * *

**Tuesday**

“Harry, darling? You’ve been home less than two days and you look almost more miserable than the day you came. Something you want to talk about?”

At the table eating dinner with his Mum, Harry tries to chew his food slowly, giving him time to think until he has to answer. Does he want to talk to her about it? Does he want to mention what’s been bothering him all along? Throughout his time of being with Louis, he never mentioned to his Mum what was going on because he didn’t want to talk about something that wasn’t permanent. There are a lot of people in Harry’s life that are temporary fixes, and though back then he wished desperately Louis wasn’t one, he just couldn’t guarantee it. However, recently things have clearly changed between them, and there’s something more enduring about the way they are now, that has Harry willing to share about him.

“I erm, like this guy.”

“Oh? Go on.”

“I’ve felt something since the moment I met him, and I can’t explain what it is, but he’s very important to me.”

“Honey? Is this why you were asking about soulmates?”

“Yeah…”

“You know it’s possible. Have you tried talking to him about it, and seeing if he felt the same spark you did?”

“Not really, no.”

“I’m going to tell you something that nan told me once. Honesty in a relationship is the only way to make it work. If you’re not honest, you can’t trust each other, and if you can’t trust each other, you can’t love each other.”

“That sounds like nan. Always a romantic.”

“Well, she did find her soulmate.”

“Yeah…I miss her.”

“Me too.”

Placing his fork down on the table, Harry peers seriously into his Mum’s emerald eyes that caress him with evergreen memories, as he goes to talk again.

“I know I’ve been really distant, but I’m glad I came home. I’m glad we talked.”

Adoration stretches across her face, filling her smile with bounds of love as she puts her hand on top of his, and answers back.

“I’m glad too, darling.”

* * * *

**Wednesday**

Steadily, Harry is returning to himself. Steadily, Harry is remembering what it feels like to just be. As he and his Mum go shopping, she wraps her left arm around him, and there’s a weight to it that helps keep Harry grounded. It’s safe and reassuring, and he knows that no matter what he does when he goes back, in the end, he’s going to be okay.

Mr. Cardone had contacted Harry early in the morning, but Harry told him that he went home, and thus, the older man informed him he’d be punished next time they’d see each other. But this time, there’s nothing that Harry fears, because he knows he’s never letting Mr. Cardone touch him again. This time, Harry doesn’t just pass this off lightly but sees it for what it is. And this time, Harry’s not kneeling down and taking it. Literally, and metaphorically.

* * * *

**Thursday**

Gemma calls Harry around noon, just a little after he’s woken up. His Mum left the house to purchase groceries while Harry slept in, so no one is home as he takes the call. It’s mostly a good thing, because his Mum is known to eavesdrop, and Harry’s in the mood to have a truthful conversation.

“Hey Gem.”

“Harry! How are you?”

The background noise to her call sounds like she’s outside, and the way she’s breathing implies that she must be walking to somewhere.

“Good. What are you doing?”

“Heading to lunch with a friend. You’re at Mum’s, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Going back tomorrow.”

“Good! Has it done you well?”

“Actually, yes. I’m more clear headed than I’ve been in a while.”

“I’m glad it helped then. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you, I bumped into your friend Louis.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Yesterday, he was with his sister. He introduced us. They asked me how you were doing, and Louis seemed genuinely concerned.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. It was nice though, they stayed to chat with me for a bit. Asked me all that I was up to, and what not.”

“That’s good. They’re really nice people.”

“Yeah, they are. I know that you said you and Louis have things to solve, but I just want to say that I approve.”

“Oh do you? And approve of what, exactly?”

Harry’s tone is teasing as his sister chuckles, and he can already picture her head shaking at him with playful annoyance.

“I approve of him, as a friend, as a boyfriend, as whatever you two want to be. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Now just get rid of Mr. Saggy Balls and things will be perfect.”

“Believe me Gem, I am.”

* * * *

**Friday**

**_I’m back home. Are you free?_ **

Entering into his flat, Harry was overwhelmed by the eerie quiet that had settled amongst his things. He didn’t want to stay inside, so he grabbed his necessities, and headed out to the park. It wasn’t a spectacular day, the sky was dressed in clouds above the city, while the wind left a chilly pink handprint on top of everyone’s cheeks, but it didn’t matter. Just being outside was all that Harry needed, although technically he  _wanted_  more than that. Which lead him to inevitably texting Louis.

**I am actually. Just got out of work**

**_I’m at the park, want to meet me?_ **

**Sure :)**

It’s roughly fifteen minutes later when Louis is visible through the city traffic, and walking down the sidewalk towards Harry. Once Louis’ eyes are upon the younger boy, a fond grin configures itself on the older boy’s face, that stops Harry’s heart. Harry’s always recognized that Louis was attractive, but he never really gave credit to just how beautiful of a person Louis Tomlinson is. And it’s not just his azure irises that dunk him in a blue oasis every time he glances at them, or his impeccable smile decorated with a five o’clock shadow that Harry’s wanted to feel rough against his flushed skin. No…it’s more than that. It’s his ability to make Harry laugh without much of an effort, or the way he cares about Harry when he’s not obligated to. It’s the way he openly is confident in who he is as a person, and the way that he supports Harry into doing the things Harry actually wants to do, not what Louis wants to do. He’s just beautiful, from every skin cell that lays on top, to every thought that shifts within…and Harry just feels a lot for him.

“Harold! Good to see you again!”

Louis doesn’t even hesitate when he wraps his arms around Harry’s torso, taking the younger boy completely off guard. But Harry doesn’t waste the opportunity, after his quick shock, he stretches his arms across Louis’ back and squeezes him close.

“Lou, I’ve missed you.”

When Harry confesses this, he can hear Louis take a sharp intake of breath, before pulling away from Harry’s body and looking up at him.

“You did?”

“Yes, every day.”

“You didn’t text or call me.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just-”

“It’s okay. I know. We all need a break every now and again.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I missed you too, Curly.”

Harry’s body warms as if he’s been submerged into a hot spring, liquid heat gliding all over and inside of him, seeping into his heart until it’s stuffed to the point he thinks it’s going to burst from his chest. As Harry’s trying to find something to say, Louis speaks up again.

“I’ve been thinking, and I know this is a long time coming, but I’m ready to tell you everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, my whole story.”

“I thought you wanted to keep rebuilding our friendship?”

“I was an idiot. At this point, the more I keep hiding it from you, the more misunderstandings are going to happen.”

“I agree.”

“Soooo…do you want to do it here?”

“The park? I mean, this is the place where we first met, there’s already some significance here for us. Don’t see why we can’t give it some more?”

Louis smirks at Harry’s dimpled smile, and then starts heading over to a bench, waiting for Harry to follow suit and sit down next to him.

“Do you want me to go first since I brought it up?”

“It’s up to you.”

Louis stares out into the scenery ahead of them, and then exhales loudly.

“Alright, I’ll start. So growing up I had a normal childhood for the most part. I know I already told you about my issues with my sexuality, and how I thought I’d want a wife. Well, there was this girl Eleanor that had shown interest in me at the end of Uni. We went on a couple of dates, I convinced myself I liked her, and then a few short weeks later we were dating. I was with her for a little over two years, and a year into that we moved in together. Somewhere along the lines after we moved in together, I met Zayn.”

“You met Zayn while you were still with Eleanor?”

“Yeah. We knew each other for a while before I found that drawing, and even after that, it took a bit for things to really become something. I never cheated on El, but there were back rubs, hugs, and held hands that were filled with more meaning than all my past relationships combined. And then at some point, I fell in love. I’m not really sure when it happened, but I had a huge freak out once I realized. Here I was, in love with someone that I wasn’t dating, and that wasn’t a female. How do I accept that?”

“Did Zayn tell you he loved you too?”

“No. When I managed enough courage to confront El about Zayn and end the relationship, my whole world fell apart.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry sees the change in Louis’ face as he glances a look into Harry’s eyes, challenging him, questioning him, to see if he’s ready. When Harry doesn’t dare look away, Louis stares just a little longer, and then breaks the eye contact by starting up again. Louis grips the cuffs of his jacket sleeves within his palms, maybe trying to brace himself for what he’s about to unload. Harry grips the edge of the bench, maybe trying to brace himself for what Louis could possibly say.

“It’s cruel really, how fate turns out sometimes. The night I left El, I went back to Zayn’s flat to find him gone. I was banging and banging on his door, and then Niall came out of his flat, and told me the worst news I’ve ever received. That Zayn had overdosed.”

“Oh my god.”

“Zayn told me he used to dabble, said it inspired his creative side, but I never realized that it was far worse than the occasional use. That it was a full-blown addiction. I could have stopped it. I could have-”

Instantly, Harry moves his hand from the bench to the top of Louis’ thighs in a comforting manner, and lightly tightens his hold on the older boys’ leg.

“Lou, you can’t think like that.”

“I…I know. Sorry.”

Louis breathes out another heavy exhale, and then continues.

“When Niall told me that he was taken away in an ambulance, I got to the hospital as fast as I could. His family was standing in the waiting area, but I never told them who I was. I sat by myself, listening in on anything they had to say about the person that I loved. It was one hour, one hour of the doctors trying anything they could, one hour of them fighting for his life. But he’d already given up. Zayn had already left.”

“God, Lou, that’s…that’s horrible. Fuck.”

“You know, I found out later on that it was thanks to his Mum that he’d been found. She was calling Zayn for hours, and finally contacted the landlord to go and check on him. If she hadn’t done that…if she hadn’t been trying to call…I…I would have been the one to find him there.”

A tear trickles down Louis' face, and Harry squeezes his leg firmer. Wanting to do so much more, but not knowing how.

“You’re so strong though, Lou. I wouldn’t have ever been able to deal with that.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I refused to believe that all that had happened. I went back home for a little while until I found a flat for myself, and then I just…I just did what I had to do to survive. Eat, breathe, sleep. It was not a life worth living. Niall and Liam weren’t really my friends at the time, but they had found out where I moved to, and bombarded me with apologies and with trying to hang out. I’m so grateful for what they did, looking back on it. If it wasn’t for them constantly pushing me, I wouldn’t have ever moved on.”

“They’re really great guys, aren’t they? So wait, if you weren’t friends, how’d you meet then?”

“They are. And ahh, great question young Harold, but let me say this first. Three years later, a curly haired cherub comes strolling into my life, bringing to me a drawing that’s worth a thousand words, and a silly kind of confidence. And you know what fate has done to make matters even worse?”

“What?”

“She placed the guy I really like, in the guy I used to love’s flat.”

“Wait…what did you say?”

“Yep. You live in Zayn’s old flat.”

And what? What kind of fucked up plot twist is this? As Harry tries to comprehend Louis’ admission, he stutters as he thinks aloud.

“What the fuck…how did I…how did I just get that? Wow. I mean, that is so obvious now that you say it. I found the drawing in my flat, that’s the only logical way it would have been there to begin with, I mean unless you had lived there before me. But I just…I didn’t connect that together…”

“Yeah…pretty strange.”

“Beyond strange…so that’s how you met them? You met the lads from going to Zayn’s?”

“Yeah. Niall and Liam moved in around the same time Zayn had, and they were friendly. I met them by association.”

“I can’t explain how weird it feels to know that I live in Zayn’s flat. It’s like I’m destroying something sacred.”

“No, I promise you it’s not that bad. Well…honestly, it took me a year before I could even step foot in that flat building again. Niall and Liam told me it was a step towards making peace with it. But even now, I don’t think I could ever go into your flat Harry. I don’t think I can go inside and see what it looks like, knowing what it used to be, and who used to be there.”

“I understand. Wow, I…is it weird to say I don’t feel comfortable being there anymore either?”

“Don’t feel that way! You should, it’s been your home for months.”

“Yeah well, I’m not going to be able to afford it much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry leans his body forward into Louis’ space, as if the words he wants to confess are to be kept a secret from the rest of the world.

“Well, first. Are you ready for my story?”

“Yes.”

As Louis peers at Harry with his steady blue eyes, and quivering chin, Harry senses a strong desire in his stomach to kiss Louis. And it’s not the kind of kiss that he wants to give because it’s the start to much more, but because he’s afraid this could be one of their last moments together, and he doesn’t want Louis to leave without Harry getting another taste. It’d be a selfish kiss, a stolen kiss, that Harry would take for himself, and remember on lips long after Louis’ gone. But Harry shakes away those thoughts. He wants to trust in Louis, wants to trust that he won’t leave. So he too intakes a breath of air to spread his lungs as far they can, before releasing the pressure and licking his lips.

“Mr. Cardone is my sugar daddy.”

Louis sputters air, and his mouth widens to a rabbit hole, in shock.

“Harry! Are you kidding?”

“No…I know it’s better to start stories at the beginning then at the end, but I wanted to get it over with, so that you can understand better the decisions in my life that lead me there.”

“O...okay.”

“When I went to Uni I was naïve in every sense of the word. I had never been in a relationship, I had never drank, I had never done anything other than what was expected of me, so I was ready to experiment in more ways than one. I was drinking too much, hooking up too much, and then eventually I even landed myself a boyfriend. Charlie was experienced, and older, and he came off like he had all this wisdom, and I envied every inch of him. But the closer we got, the more I noticed the awful demons that lurked within. He grew up in a very Christian home, that had repeatedly told him being gay was a sin. They had tried every possible option to turn their son straight, but all that did was make a very gay man, very afraid, and insecure in being themselves.”

“Holy shit, I can’t imagine dealing with that.”

“Neither can I. I know he never meant any harm, but dating the most homophobic gay guy during the time I was embracing my own sexuality was obviously really detrimental. He’d constantly tell me I was manipulating him into having sex, that I was going to hell for being a sinner, and most of all…he’d tell me I’d never be in love. That people who were gay weren’t allowed to feel love. After so long of being told I was a monster, I started to actually believe I was one.”

“I hope you know that’s not true. How long did you stick around with him?”

“Too long. I thought for a while that I could change him, and then it got to a point where I thought that he was the best I was going to get. I trusted what he was saying, and I stopped seeing a reason to leave him.”

“How did you finally break up?”

“He left me. His parents gave him two choices…they said that either he marries the preacher’s daughter, or be disowned from them forever. Didn’t take long for him to make his decision.”

“Wow, holy shit. I mean he wasn’t a good person, but that must have still been hard to go through.”

Harry shrugs his shoulders, gazing out into the expanse of greenery lying ahead of them, and the steadily darkening sky above. It’s refreshing, getting to spill all his secrets like scattered marbles rolling across a hardwood floor. Each one unique in their own way. Each one with a weight that Harry is glad to let go of.

“In the end, it was a good thing we separated, but it was difficult for me to make sense of that for a while. And truly the hardest part was that we had just moved in together a month before we broke up. Which meant that I had to leave the flat we had just gotten, and head back home after I graduated from Uni, which sucked.”

“Really?”

“Yep. That was aggravating because I couldn’t afford the flat, and I also had recently started my job bartending at “The Regency,” and I liked working there. Thankfully, Roger was really accommodating, and he let me arrange my hours so that I was working every other weekend. That way, I could come down and stay with Gemma in the city while I worked, and then just take the train back home after I was done.”

Louis cocks his head quizzically.

“That seems like a lot of effort for a bartending job.”

“But see…I picked that bar specifically, because I knew the kind of parties and clients that it served. My hope was that at some event, I would stumble upon someone who needed a photographer, and work my way in by making connections.”

“I guess I understand the reasoning behind it, but still would have been a lot to manage.”

“And it was. If I could I would have just moved in with Gemma, but she was already sharing a one bedroom flat with her friend, so it wasn’t an option.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Yeah, so I was working every other weekend, and one night I’m working, this older guy comes up to me and asks me if I’m interested in dating older men. I laughed at first, but then I said that I wasn’t entirely opposed. We started chatting and he asked me if I knew what a ‘sugar daddy’ was, which then led to him saying that he wanted to take me on a few dates, and to a few events, if I would like to join him. I’m going to be honest Louis, the man told me he’d compensate me for the parties he took me to, and said he’d give me money to cover travelling expenses, and such. I was twenty-two, living at home with no money to my name, and trying really hard to work my way into the industry. On top of that, I had this awful mentality that I was never going to be in love, thanks to my ex. So when the guy had offered to solve at least half of my biggest problems, I thought I’d be stupid to pass it up.”

“Was this Mr. Cardone?”

“No. This was another guy. I signed a contract with him for only two months, that’s all he wanted. And when we reached the end of our agreement, he informed me that a friend of his was looking for someone, and that I might be interested in meeting him. I thought the first guy was great, so how bad could be the second?”

“Horrible.”

“Yeah, well not in the beginning. Mr. Cardone told me that he wanted me for a long-term agreement, that he’d give me a weekly allowance, and that he’d personally inform me of times I was expected to be available for him. He was blunt but he wasn’t mean. The man also told me that he had a guy in each city he lived in, with similar contracts, and that I was never going to accompany him to events or on trips. With the first guy, I truly felt more like I was dating the man than anything else, but Mr. Cardone…he reminded me constantly that I was basically a whore. That he bought my time with his money, and that I signed a contract essentially selling my soul, meaning that I was just a higher paid escort.”

The more that Harry confesses, the redder Louis cheeks become. Harry’s not sure if that’s a sign that he’s uncomfortable hearing what Harry is telling him, or a sign that he’s mad about what’s happened between Harry and the other man, but Louis asks on, so Harry doesn’t waiver.

“Is that why you haven’t left him? Because of your contract?”

“Yeah…and for a while, other reasons that I don’t care about now.”

“Like what?”

“Well, the money, for one. Mr. Cardone was giving me enough to finally afford my own flat, which meant moving back into the city, which meant getting to work more at the bar. I had mentioned to him my dream in doing photography, but Mr. Cardone told me that if it was going to get in the way, it wasn’t allowed. You know Lou, it was a long time before he ever laid a hand on me, and when he introduced it, it was talked about as a kink that might be fun to play around with. As I’m sure you’ve realized, he took complete advantage of that. Of me. I know I put myself in that situation, that I’m the filthy whore fucking for money, but it still hurts.”

“Harry! You are not a whore! Please don’t ever call yourself that, ever again! He’s the monster. Not you, Harry.”

“Louis, you don’t have to pretend to defend me anymore. I’m telling you all this so that you know the truth, and so you know that I understand if you don’t want to see me again. Now that you know what kind of person I really am. According to my ex I’m unlovable, according to Mr. Cardone I’m fat and a slag. If that’s all they ever said about me, then that must mean it’s true, right?”

Louis grabs Harry’s face within his own hands, and forces the boy to look him in the eyes as he fervently tells him his opinion.

“Harry! Stop! Listen to me, you are  _not_  fat. You are not a slag. You are not unlovable. Do you hear me? You are the brightest fucking star I’ve ever seen, and shame on them in trying to dim your light. They don’t deserve your time, they don’t deserve your thoughts, and above all else, they don’t deserve you. Period. I wish I could take away your pain every time I see it linger there in your eyes, but I can’t. Only you can let it go. But when you’re ready to do that, I’ll be here. However you want me, I’m right here.”

“Louis…”

“No! I’m not done. I want you to repeat after me.”

What? Repeat…repeat what? Panic tries to fight through the shield calmness has set, as Harry remembers vividly what he’s been asked to repeat before.

“Harry? You with me?”

“Yes…sorry.”

“I need you to repeat this. I am beautiful. I am worth it. And I am loveable.”

And it’s…it’s not bad. It’s not a punishment. Violent tears race from Harry’s eyes when Louis tells Harry what he wants him to repeat. How can Louis do that? How can Louis see Harry so differently than everyone else? How can Louis sit there and still want to talk to him, after everything that he knows? Harry doesn’t understand. But for the time being, he forgets his thoughts, and does what Louis asks of him.

“I am beautiful. I am worth it. And I am loveable.”

Releasing his hands from Harry’s wet face, Louis peers into Harry as if he’s opened the door to his soul, and is trying to enter in.

“I’m going to make you repeat those words every day for the rest of your life, Curly, if that’s what it takes to get you to believe in them.”

Harry sniffles as he replies.

“That’s ridiculous, Lou.”

“It’s not…and please tell me that you’re never seeing that disgusting man ever again.”

“I want to leave him Lou, but I don’t know what to do… I legally signed those documents.”

Along with the last of his secrets Harry has kept within himself, comes another waterfall of droplets from his chartreuse eyes. It’s not that he feels worse having released it all, it just is achingly difficult to relive all the defining moments of his life, and not in good ways. As the tears continue to descend across his swollen skin, Louis leans into him, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders, and pulling the younger boy as tight as he can against himself. Harry revels in the embrace, lingering as long as he can, as long as Louis will let him, which extends long past the tears have dried.

“Hey Curly?”

“Hmm?”

“You can say no. You have every right to say no. But do you want to come to my flat tonight? I’ll get some takeout, we’ll put on a movie, and then we’ll go to sleep. That’s it. I just don’t want to leave you on your own, not today.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Louis stands up and extends a hand out to Harry, who takes it timidly within his own, and then lets Louis help him up. At the connection of their hands, waves of loyalty permeate Harry, signifying for him that the biggest thing he was afraid of happening, is no longer an option or going to. Louis’ not walking away, he’s not leaving Harry behind. And that… that is the fondest emotion that’s ever consumed him before.

* * * *

**Saturday**

Turning over in bed, Harry leans into something soft, yet firm, on the other side of the mattress. Peeling his eyes apart, Harry finds a tanned body spanning out across the covers, with tiny lines of golden sunshine that have filtered through from the window blinds, marking up it’s back. Harry can only see so much with Louis turned away, but he’s already so enchanted. Suddenly filled with a desire to be closer, Harry reaches out, dragging his index finger along Louis’ satin spine, leaving traces of himself as he dances circles into the boy’s apricot skin.

The body eventually shifts under his hand, and turns over so that Louis is now facing Harry, and Harry genuinely stops breathing. With Louis’ cinnamon hair splayed around his face, his unshaven cheeks pronouncing the softness of his lips, and his bedroom eyes that have just the tiniest hint of wrinkles as Louis smiles at Harry, it’s just too much for the younger boy’s heart to handle.

“Mornin’, Curly.”

“Morning, Lou.”

Harry grins at Louis adoringly from across the sheets, as the older boy lifts his hand and lightly shifts some of Harry’s hair out of his face, while also asking a question.

“How d’you sleep, love?”

And oh… how nice the word love sounds coming from his soft, pretty mouth.

“Okay. I feel better than I did last night.”

“You definitely needed the sleep. You got here and passed out after ten minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Harry. You’re absolutely perfect.”

It’s said with tease, but a hot flush of color spreads across Harry’s cheeks regardless, at the unabashed compliment.

“No, Lou. You are.”

When Harry replies, it’s said with all the sincerity he can muster. Louis tries to bite back a smile, and then lifts his body up, leaning his head against his palm as his arm supports his posture.

“You know, when you fell asleep last night I got to thinking about some things, and if you can, I want you to send your contract with Mr. Cardone over to my work email.”

“Why’s that?”

“In my business, I deal with a lot of legal agreements between myself and new clients, but our business has a lawyer who creates and checks them over. I think it might be worth a shot to see if he is able to find some loopholes in the paperwork, or something that could legally allow you to leave.”

“Really?”

Harry’s face emits a deliriously overjoyed feeling that surges at the speed of a rocket, blasting off into his veins.

“Yeah, well I can’t guarantee anything, but it can’t hurt to try.”

“I’ll send it over now from my phone!”

“Okay, great.”

* * * *

The rest of the day was spent cuddled on the couch watching Chopped, until it was time for Harry to head back to his flat and get ready for work. Harry was itching the whole time that Louis leaned closer into him, or when Louis brushed his fingers against Harry’s thighs. He was itching with wanting to mention his whole philosophy on them being soulmates, but he convinced himself to wait. A lot is going on, and Harry needs to take it day by day. See how this pans out, and then maybe, when the time’s right, mentioning it then.

* * * *

“Harry, come to my office, let’s talk for a minute.”

Harry had been in the back room getting ready with Perrie, who was ecstatic to see him walk in, when Roger came and suggested that Harry follow him. After they head up the back stairs, Harry enters the office, nervously fidgeting with his hair as he takes the seat across from Roger’s desk.

“I don’t want you to be worried, I just wanted to have a chat. You’re a good worker Harry, you’ve always been one of my most praised bartenders, and until recently, you’ve never missed out on work. The reason I pulled you aside is because I want to know if you’re doing alright. I know something is, or at least, was going on, and I don’t want you to hide that from me. If you’re not ready to come back to work, I’m giving you the chance to take more time off. But when you are ready to come back, you have to be devoted to being back, no more calling in shifts unless absolutely necessary.”

His boss sits across from him with a rigid expression and posture, but there’s a glint of care in his eyes that tells Harry he just really wants to make sure the boy’s okay. And that means a lot to him, because Roger rarely shows emotions towards anyone. Smiling back, Harry expresses his gratefulness and confidence in his reply.

“Roger…I’m really sorry about all the time that I’ve taken off, and you’re right, I wasn’t doing well. But I am now. I’m good. And I am more than ready to be back to work, as long as you’ll have me.”

The smallest of smirks lifts on Roger’s face.

“Of course, Harry. We’ve all missed you, and we’re very happy to have you back and doing okay.”

* * * *

**Monday**

**Hey, do you mind stopping by my office today?**

The text Harry receives from Louis comes around noon, and Harry practically breaks out in a sweat. It’s time. Louis’ must be finished looking over the contract like he promised he would do.

**_Sure! What time and send me the address_ **

**ASAP, and sure hold on**

As Louis sends over the address for his office, Harry rummages through his closet to put on more mature attire. Which essentially means swapping out his ripped black jeans for non-ripped jeans, and wearing his blouse with the buttons done up to his chest, definitely a more conservative look. Once he’s ready and has agreed to his outfit choice ten times over in the mirror, he follows the directions his phone instructs to get to Louis’ work, and makes his way over.

* * * *

“Hello, I’m here to see Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry makes his request to the auburn-haired girl sitting at the front desk of the floor. Right as he exited the elevator, she was the first person that he saw, and so Harry hopes he’s going about the procedure correctly by talking to her first.

“Name?”

She glances up quickly at Harry as she asks, though not in a completely unpleasant tone.

“Harry Styles.”

Moving her eyes back down, she’s checking something on her computer screen that Harry can’t see, before she clicks a couple times and then nods her head. When she stands up from her chair, she gestures for Harry to follow.

“Right this way, Mr. Styles.”

She leads Harry down a corridor of office cubicles and rooms, until she opens a door almost at the end of the hallway, and motions with her hand for Harry to head inside.

“Mr. Tomlinson should be back in just a moment. While you wait, you can take a seat in any of the available chairs.”

“Thanks.”

The girl closes the door behind her, and Harry takes the opportunity to glance about Louis’ space. His office is stark, nothing that really emanates Louis except for a picture of him with Lottie and three other girls, and a younger boy. Harry assumes they’re his family, all with similar facial features, but when he tries to observes the photo more, the door to the office is swung open, and two men come inside. One being Louis.

“Harold, good to see you!”

“Hi, Lou.”

As Louis enters into the room alongside another man, Louis grins and then points in the stranger’s direction.

“Harry, this is Mr. Josh Devine. Josh, this is Harry Styles. Josh is the one who handles all our legalities and other bullshit.”

Reaching out his hand, Harry shakes firmly with the noticeably young lawyer. He’s definitely around his and Louis’ age, which comes as a surprise to Harry, considering how highly Louis talked of his abilities.

“Pleasure, Mr. Devine.”

Louis laughs at Harry’s introduction, and immediately calls him out on it.

“Relax, Curly. You don’t need to be so formal.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Josh chuckles next to Harry, and then the two of them sit as Louis paces around his desk, rather than sitting in his seat.

“Alright Josh, let’s do this. Why don’t you start?”

“Oh okay. Right, so uhm, I looked over the contract a number of times, and its nearly air tight, which one would expect from a person of high status. I wouldn’t be surprised if John Cardone paid a hefty price for a top notch lawyer to draw this up. With that being said though, there is a clause in the lease about circumstances for early termination. Within the fine print, there are mentions of life threatening situations, or instances that render the partner disabled, and yada yada yada. It goes on to list a handful of items that would be cause for ceasing the arrangement, such as, domestic violence. For that particular note, there’s a subsection that goes on to elaborate on what is considered as domestic violence. Which essentially is, harm that is unwarranted, and/ or, non-consensual.”

Louis cuts in the minute that Josh takes’ a breath after his summarized analysis.

“Harry, this is good news. That means that there’s a number of different outlets you can use to cancel the deal.”

“A number?”

“Yes, you can claim domestic violence, which you have proof of with going to the hospital. You can probably even use that under ‘rendering partner disabled’ as well, since you weren’t able to work for a week.”

Josh cuts back in this time with an optimistic nod.

“Louis’ right Harry, there’s actually a few ways we can go about this. The real question is, however, how do _you_  want this to end?”

“How do I want this to end?”

Harry repeats to the other’s in the room, scrunching his eyebrows to accentuate his clear confusion. Josh slowly nods his head back at him, and then responds to clarify.

“Yes. Do you want to just end the contract and be done with him? Do you want to file a report against him and have him go to jail? I mean, there are alternative ways this can be managed, just tell us what you want.”

In all the time Harry had thought about the end, he never thought he’d be the one to have the final say in how it happened. It’s daunting to just think about having to go through trials and lawsuits in order to put Mr. Cardone behind bars. And honestly, is that really want he wants? He’s deeply hurt by the man, but he doesn’t hate him, not like he knows he should.

“I just want to terminate it, and be done with him.”

Louis’ face portrays disappointment in that answer, but there’s nothing that can be done. It’s Harry’s choice. Josh looks at Louis, and then back at Harry, letting out an audible breath as he goes on.

“Alright Harry, I’d be more than happy to help you with that.”

* * * *

**Saturday**

All week Josh, Harry, and Louis spent their time concocting the best way to address Mr. Cardone. Louis wanted to just go to the man on Monday and end it once and for all right then and there, but Josh urged him and Harry to wait. Josh wanted to make sure that when Harry went to see Mr. Cardone again, that Harry knew what he needed to say, and was confident in his approach. If Mr. Cardone sensed any doubt or waiver, he’d jump on that, and most likely manipulate Harry into thinking otherwise.

This meant that every day leading up to Saturday, Harry practiced how he would address Mr. Cardone, how he would say what he wanted to say, and how he would then leave. Not allowing for any questions to come from the man that might catch Harry off guard, and not allowing enough time to span for Harry to feel remorse for his actions. Because as they’ve all learned quickly, Harry has a hard time being deliberately mean or stern, even if it’s in role play. At one point when they’re practicing, Louis calls Harry a curly headed kitten, and though it’s not meant as a compliment, Harry basks in it anyways.

When Saturday does arrive, Harry finds himself at the door of the restaurant Mr. Cardone informed Harry to meet him at for lunch. It almost seems normal, like any other Saturday, except it’s not. This is the last Saturday for them ever. Entering inside, Harry finds the older man already at a table closer to the back, discussing with the waiter surely what he wants to eat and what bottle of wine to drink. Amazingly routine, absolutely predictable. Harry shivers with nerves in his leather jacket, and then marches forward, taking his usual spot across from the older man.

“Harry, nice to see you. How have you been, since I didn’t see you last week?”

The comment is more snarky than it is concerned, which only serves to provide Harry with more fuel for his fire. He’s ready to do this, no second guessing it now.

“Fine. Uhm, sir? I need to just come out and say this. There’s no easy way… but I’m leaving you. I’m terminating our agreement.”

It takes a few seconds for the statement to be understood, as Harry watches Mr. Cardone’s face alter from puzzled to angry. His words coming out abrasively as they try to attack Harry’s defenses.

“You can’t do th-”

But Harry’s guard is up, his army is full, and his mind clear; leaving Mr. Cardone’s attack unsuccessful. As Harry stands there watching him, he can see the foundation of the man’s demeanor crumble under the weight of Harry’s newly acquired power.

“Actually I can, and already have. You abused me. Under a clause in your own contract, that is justification for termination.”

“Abuse? What the-”

“Look…I’m not here to argue. My copy of the lease is on top of your lawyer’s desk, with a report from the doctor I saw in the hospital, detailing my recent visit. It explains very thoroughly the strange belt like lashings I had scattered on my thighs, arse, and lower back.”

“But Harry…”

“No buts. You took advantage of me, you abused me. You should thank your lucky stars because I’m giving you a chance to change. But just know…know that I have a folder at home with another copy of our contract, a copy of my doctor’s report, and other evidence that could put you in jail for a long time. Know…that if I ever,  _ever_  hear you abuse anyone else, I will not hesitate to pull that file out and use everything inside of against you in a court of law.”

Harry doesn’t wait to hear another word uttered from the man’s quivering mouth, as he turns to exit the restaurant like a battleship heading for home, leaving behind a sea of destruction in his wake.

* * * *

The walk back to his flat was the most invigorating walk Harry’s had in a while. He’s high on the adrenaline that is charging through his body, and amping him up. And with every step he takes away from the man that he’s officially free from, Harry leaves behind a pound’s worth of stress, that by the time he makes it to his flat, has him feeling like he could float away from all the weight gone. It’s all extremely exhilarating, and Harry just wants to share his happiness with the one person that helped him get here, so he picks up his phone to dial Louis.

“Hello?”

“Lou! I did it!”

On the other side of the phone line, Harry can hear Louis cheering loudly into their call.

“Harry, that’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you, I knew you could!”

“Thank you! Please say thank you to Josh for me, also.”

“I will. So…what’s the plan now?”

“For what?”

“For your life, young Harold!”

Louis yells the statement boisterously to Harry over the phone, who giggles vigorously at his actions.

“You’re so silly, Lou. Well…I have two months paid off, so I have that much time to move out and find somewhere less expensive to live. I am going to start applying for photography jobs, and I’m going to sleep. A lot.”

“Is there room in your busy plans for a celebration?”

“On leaving Mr. Cardone?”

“Don’t say its name! And yes!”

Harry chuckles more, feeding off the high energy that Louis is providing him.

“Tonight and tomorrow I have to work, how about next Friday? I’m surprisingly not scheduled, since we hired a new girl that Perrie’s going to be training that night.”

“Sounds good to me! I’ll invite Nialler and Payno.”

“Great!”

“And Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am happy for you. That man didn’t deserve a single second he got to spend with you, and you should know that. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and you deserve the entire fucking universe. So don’t go feeling bad or regretting your decision.”

Harry did everything to refrain from saying the words out loud, but they blared like strobe lights in his mind.  _I love you._  Instead, he choked back that acknowledgement with the hardest swallow he could take, and replied with something less dramatic.

“I won’t, Lou.”

It wasn’t the same, but it was enough for now.

* * * *

**Sunday**

“Gemma, guess what?”

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was still feeling the effects of leaving Mr. Cardone, and the light airy sensation clouding his head was like soaring in an invincible bubble. In this state, Harry pulled out his phone, suddenly wanting to share his good news with anyone he could tell. Including his sister, too.

“What?”

“I did it!”

“Did what?”

“I left Mr. Saggy Balls.”

“You did? Finally!! Does this mean that you and Louis can now have your romantic getaway, and be married, and have children?”

“Uhm…slow down. But maybe? I still haven’t mentioned to him that I think we’re soulmates.”

Gemma’s tone changes from excited to pushy, when she hears Harry’s fact.

“Get on that baby bro! There should be nothing holding you back now.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“If anything, it’s been too long. Hurry up and make your move or someone else will.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Good luck!”

And Harry is hoping for that. For luck. For luck to finally be on his side, assisting him in being with the only person that’s ever made him want to try and be better, to do better. Louis believed in Harry when Harry didn’t believe in himself, and that’s monumental. Louis deserves an award, but first, Harry would like to give him a kiss, or maybe a few.

* * * *

**Friday**

“Raise those drinks up boys! We’re toasting to a good night!”

Louis yells into the space where Niall, Liam, Harry, and Louis’ shots are circled together. Niall comments back boastfully.

“Great night, lads. We’re going to have a great night!”

As the rest of the group nods their heads in agreement, all chuckling and smiling, Harry yells out next.

“On three then. One…two…THREE!”

At the sound of Harry screaming three, the four boys clink their drinks and then raise them up to their lips, pouring back the alcohol in one swing. It burns in Harry’s throat as the liquor coats his esophagus on its way down, but the first is always the hardest, he reminds himself.

After the first shot is settled, Harry takes a glance around to gaze at the club that Louis brought them all too. The most apparent attribute is the music pounding so loud within the confinements of the space, that Harry’s sure the walls will fall down. But once he can focus past the noise, he then takes note of the dim club that lightens only when the strobe lights flicker, and that it’s crowded, people loitering from the dance floor to the bar, and every corner in between.

When Harry pulls his attention back to the boys, it’s because he notices Niall and Liam making a beeline for the bar, clearly hoping to ingest more drinks into their systems. In their absence, Louis slides closer to Harry, and Harry’s entire body flushes with heat. This is the first time that their together with nothing holding either one of them back, and to say someone could cut the sexual tension in-between them with a knife, would be a massive understatement.

“Curly, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

Louis tip toes up into Harry’s face, only inches apart from Harry’s lips. When Louis talks, Harry can feel his breath on him, and it’s incredibly difficult to ignore.

“I saw you yesterday when we got lunch.”

“And that’s a day too long.”

“Oh is it now? I wasn’t aware.”

“Well now you know.”

Louis wets his mouth with his tongue, and then winks at Harry obscenely. Harry isn’t strong enough for this, so he downs another shot of alcohol in hopes to focus on the burn of the liquor, rather than the burn in his heart. But then Harry takes another shot, and by the third, he’s pleasantly tipsy, and pleasantly pumped with liquid courage.

“Lou?”

“Hmmm?”

Louis replies with a hum since his mouth is occupied by the beer bottle he’s sucking on, and oh god, the way his cheekbones hollow has Harry fucking hard. He shouldn’t look at him, ever. He’s too weak against the older boy’s sex appeal.

“Do you erm…like maybe do you…”

“Spit it out, Harold.”

“Do you want to dance?”

Harry can’t deny it anymore; Louis looks good tonight. Better than good. With his fringe gelled into this swirl that makes his cheekbones sharper, and his eyes brighter. And he has on these suffocatingly tight black pants, and a transparent black t-shirt that gives Harry a view of Louis he’d like to frame in his personal wank bank forever. It’s glorious. Louis looks positively mouthwatering, and Harry wants a bite.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Louis leads them to the dance floor, and Harry grips on to his small wrist so that everyone in the room knows who Louis is dancing with. Harry’s not marking his territory, but he’s marking his territory. As the music thrums under his skin, he pulls Louis close to him and starts dancing against him hesitantly. He wants Louis in the worst way, but he’s slightly afraid of over stepping some boundary lines he’s not fully aware of, yet. However, Louis tilts his head up to Harry, and smirks at him with bounds of cockiness that maintains the pleasant firmness in Harry’s cock.

“Is that your best?”

At that question, Louis raises an eyebrow, and then turns his body around to press his arse right up against Harry’s groin. And oh…this is nice.

“Fuck, Lou…”

Harry’s words come out breathy as Louis starts to grind into him in the obscenest of manners. Grabbing onto his hips, Harry tries to hold tight as Louis rocks into him like his life is depending on it.

“You like that, Curly?”

Louis’ panting cadence is teasing Harry to no end. Everything the older boy is doing is intoxicating, especially when Louis turns around again and straddles Harry’s right thigh, dragging his hips up and down his leg as he dances on top of the taller boy. Harry bites his lips in response, and then leans in as close to Louis’ ear as he can get, practically licking Louis’ lobe as he whispers hotly into the older boy’s ear.

“Let me show you how much I like it, Lou.”

Harry can see the goosebumps that rise on Louis’ skin, and feel them lift under his fingertips. He likes that he’s gotten such a reaction out of him, loves it actually. He’s thriving in knowing that Louis is feeling some sort of way about this all, as well.

“Oh yeah, Curly? How?”

Smirking back hungrily, Harry leans forward again and licks a fat stripe up the side of Louis’ neck, and then sucks at the skin that resides in the corner of his neck and shoulders. He hums as his mouth is pressed hotly onto Louis, tasting his salty vanilla skin until he’s satisfied he’s had enough. But it’s not, it’s never enough. Harry pulls away but he wants to devour Louis whole. When he attaches his eyes back onto the older boy again, Louis’ pupils are blow so wide they’re all black, and he’s biting his bottom lip as he smirks. Harry could stare at him like this for hours, but then Louis seems to come back to himself, blue filling his view, and then talks to Harry.

“Alright, how about a game?”

Moving to face directly in front of Louis, Harry asks back.

“What’d you say, Lou?”

“A game…let’s play a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“What do you mean what kind of game? We’re in a bar on a Friday night, you think I’m gonna pull out my scrabble board and start putting down letters? A drinking game, Harold. Come on, keep up!”

Harry rolls his eyes teasingly.

“Okay, okay. What are the rules?”

“Every time you touch me, you have to take a shot. And vice versa, for me.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. Why? Don’t think you can keep your hands off me?”

“Oh no, exact opposite, in fact. I think this is about to be the easiest game I’ve ever won.”

And well, who doesn’t love a good challenge?

* * * *

No surprise to anyone except Harry himself, is the fact that Harry lost the game. Not even a minute after the game started, the two boys got knocked into each other by another group of people, and had to take their first shot. After that, the two just kept forgetting, and then once the alcohol truly started to render their minds useless, they both were lost causes. Harry couldn’t keep his inebriated self from touching any part of Louis, and it seemed that Louis was in the same boat. The only positive outcome is that whatever the goal of the game was, Harry is sure Louis lost too.

“Oi, thing one and thing two! We’re going, so you better come along or we’re leaving you cunts behind!”

Niall calls out to them, and then Louis and Harry who are completely all over each other, follow behind him and Liam. As they exit the club, there’s a taxi that is waiting for them parked on the sidewalk, and Niall shoves everyone inside before giving the driver Louis’ address first. It only takes five minutes to Louis’, which means there’s only five minutes of Harry rubbing his thumb against Louis’ hand to enjoy. And unfortunately, five minutes passes more like five seconds, when Louis is already shifting to exit the cab.

“Thanks lads. And by the way, Harry’s coming with me.”

As Louis’ makes this statement, he grabs onto Harry’s arms aggressively, and yanks the surprised boy out of the taxi quicker than anyone else can breathe. At the speed of the exchange, Louis eliminated the chance of the other boys arguing, or for Harry to potentially say ‘no,’ all by the time he shuts the door and the cab heads off.

“Lou! That was sneaky! They’re gonna be so mad at you.”

Louis looks up at Harry with squinted eyes, as if he’s observed something important, but then what comes out, is not even close.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk faster when you’re drunk? Amazing.”

Harry stick his tongue out sassily in response, and then Louis comments back.

“Bite me.”

Once they’re inside Louis’ flat, the boys toe off their shoes and then head straight for the bedroom. Harry doesn’t wait before he starts peeling off his shirt and pants, and plummeting to the bed like a corpse, completely dead weight. The problem is, is that if Harry was a happy drunk or even a good buzzed right now, he would utilize this opportunity to maybe touch Louis more, or kiss him, or whatever. But Harry’s beyond passed the point of tipsy, and into completely wasted, and so sleep is the only thing he’s destined for on this particular Friday night. At least he’s not the only one, Louis beside him is already asleep as his light snores reverberate in the silence.

* * * *

It’s not morning. No it’s certainly not morning as the moon hangs like a portrait against the wall of stars. And yet, there’s a noise load enough to have stirred Harry from his sleep. In his drunken and exhausted stupor, he can’t recognize what the repeated sound it, so Harry sits up in the bed to wake himself more. As he forces his back up, he rubs his eyes open, and then he hears it again. And this time it’s loud enough that Harry can identify what it is. It’s a moan.

Instantly looking to the other side of the bed, Harry finds Louis’ body gone, and then he hears the moan again. Fuck. It’s soft, and raspy, and high, and it sways tauntingly in Harry’s ears. With the sound calling onto to him, Harry accepts that he has two decisions he can make. One, he can go back to sleep and pretend this all never happened. Or two, he can go do something about it. While one is clearly the choice he should be making, Harry’s still pretty hammered, and he’s definitely drunk enough to make some more bad decisions this evening.

Going with choice two, Harry gets out of the bed and follows the noises that bring him to just outside Louis’ bathroom, and he’s frozen. The door is slightly ajar enough for him to clearly see Louis inside, naked and rubbing himself. After listening to his moans, and now seeing him like this in all his glory, standing there with his skin glistening incredulously with sweat, Harry is fully hard. And he’s also outside of his limit on what he can handle. And this…this is miles past that.

Harry gives a silent prayer because this can either go really bad or really good, and then crosses his fingers for extra luck. On the count of three in his head, he tells himself he’ll go in. One. Two. Three…Swallowing hard, Harry thrusts the door open and barges inside, and holy mother of hell…

“Fuck! Harry! Get out!”

But Harry doesn’t move because once he has Louis standing directly in front of him, he can’t leave. Harry needs it. Harry needs Louis.

“Harry?”

“Let me help.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let me help, Lou. Please.”

Louis stands in a state of shock, but Harry gets down on his knees, showing exactly for Louis on just how Harry wants to help.

“Harry, you don’t…”

His words though are muddled by a moan that escapes next, thanks to Harry’s wet lips enveloping Louis’ cock, taking him whole within Harry’s eager mouth.

“Fuck.”

The moans Louis was creating before are nothing compared to the ones he’s panting out now as Harry takes him further and further in, desperately wanting to make him feel good. With the sound as reassurance that he’s doing well, Harry swirls his tongue all over Louis, but paying special attention to his head, lathering it in his spit.

“Harry, ‘m gonna cum… if you… keep doing that.”

It’s mind-blowing, and Harry’s going to explode too, just from the way Louis purrs above him. Continuing until he gets the result he wants, Harry tightens his lips to suck harder around Louis’ base, and then takes him in again, speeding up his pace. Louis returns to moaning and letting words fall from his lips that reward Harry tenfold.

“God, Harry…you’re so warm…so good for me…”

Harry starts using his hand to pump Louis’ base, as he focuses his sucking to Louis’ head, and it doesn’t take long after that for Louis to release himself down Harry’s throat, and Harry takes it all with pride. Standing up to stretch his legs, Harry gazes at Louis who still seems at a loss for words. Then again, so is Harry. Not sure what there is to say, he does the only thing that makes any sense. He leans down, and kisses Louis on his lips, and then turns around and goes to bed.

* * * *

**Saturday**

When Harry wakes up again, opening his eyes to actual daytime, the events of the night prior latch onto his mind with three inch claws. But he made this mess, and he’s the one that has to grab the broom and sweep it up. And truthfully, Harry’s tired. He’s tired of prancing around the elephant in the room as if there isn’t anything so obviously there. He longs for Louis in the most non-platonic of ways, and it’s about damn time he admits it.

Moving from the bedroom to the kitchen, Louis is standing at the counter stirring the contents inside his mug, which most likely is tea. He looks up at Harry as the younger boy walks closer to him, and to Harry’s dismay, there’s a discomfort in the way Louis’ posture readjusts itself upon his arrival. Harry almost bites back all his proclamations that were made mere moments ago, and runs out of the flat, but he’s better than that. And it wouldn’t help him get what he wants. So with an unsteady breath, Harry begins slow.

“Mornin’, Lou.”

“Morning.”

Louis responds cordially enough; Harry’s acknowledges that it’s clear to continue.

“Do you, erm, remember anything from last night?”

“That depends. Are you asking me if I remember getting my cock sucked like it was a fucking tootsie pop, then the answer is yes. Yes, I do.”

Harry’s cheeks burn, but he’s not entirely embarrassed by the event that had taken place, if he’s being honest.

“Oh, well. Good then.”

Louis raises an eyebrow at him.

“Is that all you wanted to ask?”

“No! No. I…erm. Okay, so I didn’t do that because I was drunk. I might have had one too many drinks last night, but I knew what I was doing. I really really like you, Louis. I’ve liked you since way before I kissed you all those months ago in the park. And it’s probably been obvious this entire time, how I feel about you, but we’ve never discussed it. I know I only just got things over with Mr. Cardone, but I don’t want to wait another two weeks, when in two weeks I’ll want you just as much as I want you now.”

“You serious?”

“Yes. For a long time I thought you were in love with Zayn, so I pushed everything aside. Now I know, and I know that he’s always going to be a part of your life, but hopefully there’s room for me too. And there’s another thing I’ve been thinking for a long time.”

“What is that?”

“That we’re soulmates.”

Louis’ eyes widen remarkably at the word Harry mentions.

“That first day I met you a force came over me so strong, and yet so peaceful, I couldn’t comprehend it. And then I asked you if you felt it, and you said “felt what.” I don’t know, maybe you didn’t experience it, but I swear I felt the spark.”

“Wow, we’re both idiots.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I asked you ‘felt what,’ it was because I had felt something unimaginative take me over, and when you were asking me if I felt something, I didn’t think it could possibly be the same thing. That’s why I asked, I wanted you to tell me what you felt because there was no way to me, that we had both experienced the same strong force.”

Harry’s body eases immensely, and laughs at how dumb their past selves are, and then takes a step forward to Louis.

“Wow, we are idiots aren’t we?”

“Yes. But we’re soulmate idiots, so that must make it okay.”

A smile stretches so far on Harry’s face that his dimple is prominently showcased, and it’s as if every inch of his body is grinning just as much as his face. Harry wants to say something again, but this time, Louis add more.

“Oh and Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I know we just established that we’re soulmates and all, but does that mean that you’re also my boyfriend? Because I’d like to be both.”

Louis raises his eyebrows in a quick playful manner, and Harry wants to commit it to memory.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“Suppose I’m not opposed to that idea.”

“Then does that mean you won’t be opposed to me kissing you some more?”

Louis shakes his head and chuckles.

“Or I’ve got a better idea. We can pick up where we left off last night, hmm?”

“Mmm, yeah that sounds way better.”

Grabbing the younger boy’s hand, Louis starts to lead Harry back into the bedroom.

“Now it’s my turn to suck you, yeah?”

“Oh erm, you don’t have to like, do that. I’ve always…I’ve always been the one to give…”

Louis halts unexpectedly.

“Are you kidding? God Harold, no way. There needs to be balance, it’s all about giving and receiving. You gave me some last night, now you’ll receive some today.”

Harry blushes profusely.

“Okay.”

Shaking his head, Louis starts pulling Harry back into the bedroom, and Harry holds on to Louis’ hands as tight as he can. Never ever wanting to let go. When they’re standing inside, Louis yanks the younger boys’ head down to kiss Louis, and Harry’s a goner. He’s the anchor to Louis’ ship being thrown overboard, and submerged in freezing seas. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. When Louis pulls back to take his shirt off, he stares directly into Harry’s eyes with enthusiasm drenching his next words.

“I can’t wait to show you what a real relationship is like.”

Harry bites his bottom lip to repress the magnitude of love that is threatening to tear the roof off the flat.

“I can’t wait to find out.”

Louis smirks at him devilishly, and then shoves Harry onto the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Two Months Later**

“I can’t believe we’re actually living together.”

Moving the last of his boxes into Louis’ flat, Harry proclaims the statement with irrevocable happiness. Louis rolls his eyes and responds from the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you tricked me into thinking this way a good idea.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

As Harry unseals some of the boxes to begin putting away his items, he remembers the thing he wanted to place away first. Grabbing for the picture frame lying on top of another box, Harry sets the image in the center of the room on the fireplace. Making sure it’s the first thing people see when they’re in the living room. As Harry stares at it for a bit, Louis paces over and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, looking at the drawing that Harry had positioned.

“It looks perfect there, Curly.”

Louis kisses the side of Harry’s head, and Harry’s smiles while still focused on the paper.

“Yeah, it does.”

Still in his arms, Louis pulls Harry around to face him, when he goes to say something again.

“Thank you. That really means a lot to me that you got it framed, and want to show it off.”

“Well it led you too Zayn, and it’s the reason we even met, so it deserves to be the focal point.”

“I wish you two could have met. Zayn would have loved you.”

“I wish I could have met him too, so that I can say thank you for drawing the love of my life on a piece of paper, that helped me find my way to you.”

Harry leans down and kisses Louis gently, pulling back as their lips part just enough that he’s still wrapped in Louis' arms.

“You know, for someone who didn’t believe in love, you say it an awful lot now.”

“That’s because you’ve corrupted me.”

“Don’t lie Harold, you corrupted yourself. That’s what you get for falling in love with me.”

Harry nips at the tip of his nose in a cute, teasing manner.

“Yeah, you’re right babe. It’s because I love you.”

Louis’ cheeks burn a strawberry tint every time he hears Harry utter those three words, and Harry still can’t get over how pretty the reaction is. Two months later and he’s hopelessly devoted, if not obsessed.

“Well, it’s a good thing, cause I love you, too.”

Reaching his hands down, Harry grabs onto Louis’ arse firmly and then starts kissing up and down his neck, as he offers a suggestion. Louis in response, starts gripping his hair.

“I have an idea. How about we make use of those new bed sheets I bought, and then we can get to packing afterward?”

“What about being ready for the housewarming party tonight?”

“Don’t worry, we have time.”

And that’s the funny thing, isn’t it? Because for years it was as if all that Harry was doing, was running out of time, and running out of luck. The more he wanted to achieve something, the less time he seemed to have to do it. But now that he has Louis as a permanent fixture in his life, and now that he’s got an interview for a wedding photography company coming up, and now that the pieces to this never-ending puzzle are falling into place on their own, time isn’t escaping him anymore. Instead, it’s standing with him like an old friend, ready to accompany him along these oncoming years with happiness, and grace, and luck. And remembering, with every chance that Harry gets to look into the beautiful eyes of his destined love, that they have plenty of time ahead of them, so he can just relax, and enjoy the ride.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Here is the[post](http://afangirlfantasy.tumblr.com/post/150326899146/am-i-more-than-you-bargained-for-yet-by) for this story, along with the image!**   
>  **This is my main tumblr blog:[afangirlfantasy](http://afangirlfantasy.tumblr.com)**   
>  **This is my fic rec / author rec side blog:[alarriefantasy](http://alarriefantasy.tumblr.com)**


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